Bed time stories.

I am housed in a body so tired it is unable to sleep.

I want to clutch my love to me but physically I am hot as though the fires of my mind have swallowed me whole.

I hear distant sounds of a circus and know for a moment that the
pitch black of darkness makes all souls go quietly and secretly
crazy when faced with its black slate.

My mind wanders through doors.

Flashes of color and passion within each border.

All the stirring pieces of waking life keep eye lids weighing heavy with the bed time stories of my adult life;

they toss and turn me like waves until

I am peacefully carried out to sleep at sea.