Memories drop like quarters in the stillborn gray of not-yet-morning

I am laying in the shallow clear tide between seeing and dreaming
Sleep moves around me in sluggish waves
pulling at my arms and sides with cool dark hands
running up around my ribs and back
pulling me farther into the blue
Sliding in, I drag my fingers through the grainy sand
kicking up thoughts that float for a moment becoming dreams
that follow me like fish as I fall into sleep

AcB 10.31.01