by Yvette Durham

Created on: June 14, 2010

Insomnia, evidentially, was to be my bed companion this night.

My wide dry eyes- itchy from exhaustion-

tunnel through

hollow blackness.

A soulless

silence

gives way to the clonk of the bedroom clock;

its sober regularity provoking my adrenalin-charged heart to

beat yet harder, jealously craving such calm composure.

Oh wicked Insomnia!

My ears twitch at the clunking of the heating, then to the

scurrying,

scampering

of the cat, engrossed in nocturnal mischief. 

I can hear the scratch of his nails

cleanly splitting

tiny

seam hairs

of the leather couch.

My spasmodic legs kick at-

shuffle around in-  their bag of cool, eygptian sheets;

sheets that clinch and cling, tauntingly. 

An attempt at

deep

breaths

only managing scratchy chest activity and…

a whiff of warm, sweet skin on inhale.

The culprit, my mind,

is clogged with noisy thoughts.

Rush hour,

rattling by useless details.

My body stiffens at their insistence;

a residue of stress and worry.

Minutes or hours later,

I reach into sleep.

It takes me,

I think.

Dreams are palpable,

lifelike.

Am I still awake,

naming furniture shapes, masquerading in darkness?

A detached persistent trill

Bursts

into my thick,

heady

slumber.

My alarm.

Today, I get married.

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