Last night I drank two cups of tea
and sank into non-sleep.
This is were the night's terrors reside
the body surrenders and you
are left alone
with your mind.
In the interstices behind your eyelids
a thousand thoughts teem.
Maybe - Police siren - what time is it?
I'll get back - How long have I -
felt like this in a while - police siren -
point of it isn't - those earrings -
police siren - When did I last take -
control - take control -
Police siren.
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(That was Tuesday night, after a really enjoyable evening of Thai curry and monopoly with Nic, Nadia and their puppy Hachi.)
(I'm not usually plagued by insomnia, only when I forget my caffeine sensitivity or if I'm too full of excitement or anxiety. But isn't it a terribly real example of just have little control we have even over our embodied self? In so many areas of life success can come through trying, trying harder, trying hardest. But with sleep - trying is failure and only oblivion to the effort means success.)
(I remember seeing that picture in the art gallery of NSW and thinking how magical that sliver of sun was, how the light seemed to actually come from it and dawn over the woman and yet the light also seemed to come from the woman, or at least alight especially on her.)
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