night flows endlessly between my eyelids
refusing to enter
i cannot sleep
and have started to count lovers
instead of sheep
some names i do declare
escape me and some i will confess blessed me
some flung their love at me while others
slipped it behind me gentle like a shadow
and once i found a ring inscribed
with someone’s name
and kept it
but you my dear
i chose
eyes opened wide as were my arms
to claim you all
although you are as elusive as sleep
i’ve woven your name under my skin so deep
so deep
night flows silently
it is like a river
and i want to drown
in it

michèle voltaire marcelin

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2 Responses to “insomnia”

  1. Jeanie Bogart says:

    Ce texte est beau dans toute sa simplicite. Plus d’un se retrouveront dedans.

    • Maryse says:

      The restless Michele suffers from insomnia of course. Too much to see, too much to do, too much to feel in such a life busy with excitement and pleasurable moments… Enjoy to your heart’s content, Mariposa!

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