As I lay myself to sleep
Thoughts rise up from the deep.
They keep me awake.
It's too hot; it's too cold;
I can't forget what I've been told
that day.
Dreams I've dreamt, loves I've left
Rise up from the place I've left
inhabit me.
Words and thought and metaphors
The turns I shall use in my prose
visit me.
Thoughts on a sleeplessness night, and remembering how when I put my head on the pillow I knew how I'd write this article.
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