Transfer of Power
Sleep ate silent
holes in day
after day. I let it. I fed it
the softest hours, hovered
over the toilet, shallow
retch, no relief. Heart
burnt by lanterns lowered
with the jewels of my mind.
Magician in reverse: impossible
billow of silk swallowed
by the sleeve. This feeling,
a revel, reeling
you onto life’s spool.
Nothing is pure. Wonder
is soft and woolen. Fear
has a pointed spindle.
