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.