sleep, sleep,
she slides into a dream
sideways
down on hot pavement, through a cracked window, to clean air, bright sun, a cool breeze. over a bridge and through the city, up into deep dark and misty forests, sloshing like water in a bowl. icicles leave you empty, but warm.
dark shadows
collect
dark shadows pile, thin layers of doubt
dark shadows pile, sediment makes stone, makes heavy earth rich with humus
where will your seeds grow? when their true leaves push forth, where will they find light? will their roots slide down? will their flowers open freely and with hope?
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