if it is 3am, and once again
you cannot sleep even though
exhaustion holds you like
a daughter in its arms
and you call the sky your mother,

if you cannot sleep even though
you are being dragged down
belly-up by the monster at
the bottom of the lake, and
your eyes are squeezed shut
so as not to see the light,

if you cannot sleep, let your
lungs inflate and open your arms
to the concept of flight.
let your fingers turn
into kite strings,

let your shuddering heartbeat
become the fluttering of wings,
you will find it can keep you
airborne better than any machine.

when you have reached a
height that matches the depth
of the pit in your stomach,
let yourself hang safely
(with no mention of a noose),

let your eyes be a beacon
the lighthouse keeper would
admire, let your lungs defliate.

sleepless aeronaut, featherless
bird born from the sky and
pulled down to earth.
let yourself rest.