soft suede laughter lullabies
muffle those thoughts that thrive on silence
like a fire feeds on oxygen.
when I close my eyes, it’s not dark
but deep reddish-orange from the candles
on the coffee table, still lit,
and the world flickers warmly behind my eyelids.
immersed in cozy fetal nostalgia,
my insomnia fades into washed out colors
and is blurred and kind of funny
like the muted conversations I can barely make out
bobbing in the warm night around me.
I forget about the seething machine in my head,
its whirring and sputtering drowned out by the pleasant din,
and let fatigue pull me in like a sighing lover
resting my head on her downy chest, for once
unafraid of what my dreams hold.
tethered to voices floating just outside comprehension,
I drift peacefully into sleep.