#26

Waking from a dream dissipating and gone. Once. Twice. Three times. In night that lingers at your door, not quite wanting to go home. An impatient mind, aware that the earth continues to spin as it does and as it always has and as it will continue to do. To return you to morning. To dump you into the day headfirst, reeling, rubbing your eyes. And you lay, swathed in your womb of blankets, hugged by the divot your body has made in the mattress, wishing you could stay but knowing you must go.