Morning
And then, waking
the breathing slows
And relaxes
the tightly clenched jaw,
unfold the huddle of limbs
as they cease to hold themselves
No escape into dreams,
if dreams are but what is lived
but brighter
and all the agency of a twisted mind
make of the unconscious a nightmare
Relax when waking,
and lay,
thankful that there is yet life;
that one day I may dream,
and awake in the arms of another
smiling
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