as i fall asleep 26

if i could hold my attention long enough, I’d notice a pattern. and longer than that, I’d notice a progress. and longer than that, I’d notice a peace. the small quakes a rhythm, or you could call them waves. or you could call it winds. or numbers to reduce.

if i could hold attention long enough, woven thread with needles, not just whatever floats, gurgling stomach and my bones.

if i could hold it long enough, it’d be the ayes that have it, the oil the motor needs, the bugs in my eyelids, long walks in the brow.

or hold it short and deep, and you can’t just say its deep, it must be dug, how much to say about the number 50, the die on my wrist, a useless list.