it is past 5 in the evening
and the orange sun and the trees and the cicadas
cut through the blinds beside my bed.
I thought I had shut them tight enough.
the ceiling fan whispers silently
rhythmically
above my head
as my eyes flutter in and out of sleep
and I become lost beneath the sheets and the blankets
like a shell on the beach
becomes lost beneath the sand and the water,
completely engulfed
soundless and faint.
the orange sunlight ripples over me
as I sink
and sink
and sink.
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