The patterns pass over-through me
Like ripples from the center of the lake
I am not awake yet
I am clumsy,
And when the nightmares surround me
Baring their teeth
I am fear
Caught in the patterns as if in a web
Unable to flee, or defend myself
Wash over me
I float on the surface like a wounded fish
I want to be distilled down through the water’s bed
Through the sand and gravel until
There is
Nothing
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