I went to sleep so tired

of the world-destroying comfort,

cloying like a drum

beat by the ever-looming sun,

while the roaring stream and vicious gusts

swallow up the I, the We—

whispered hoarsely,

bloodied by years of repetition.

I was met with restless blackness

swaddling me, formless,

before falling like a cloak

off the finely muscled shoulders

of a naked, gray-skinned giant.

He rose, a towering vision

of admirable power,

the proof of which flicked and flared

from the flaming eyes he set on me.

There we both stood bare,

no use left for shyness.

“Why have you forsaken us?”

was all I dared to say.

He flexed with quick white rage,

like he'd noticed a mosquito,

already swollen

on the fire from his veins.

“What you mean to ask,” he thundered,

"is why I'm here to sour the sweetness

of your usual slumber.

How I can bear to burn the world

instead of its corruptors.

To slaughter dread-stained children,

not the men who soil them."

Perhaps you know the weighty wordlessness

a spiteful dream can catch you in.

He saw me freeze and softened.

I found myself swept up

in great, merciful forearms.

"Why cry for tinder when it catches,

or hold kindling to account?

Forget your anger and rejoice

that all will burn, alike, together.

Forget your hunger for the blighted crop.

Lie down in the field and blaze with it.

Let ashes feed new growth."

I woke up light–

hollowed out, even.

My eyes were dry and sleepless,

but I no longer needed them.

I stumbled downstairs

and poured myself

a bowl of sweet acceptance.

I sighed as i ate,

tar and toil gone from my lungs.

For the first time,

Time stretched back and forth around me,

blowing coolly through my kitchen,

and was welcomed.

Without my realizing,

a black ocean had crept in

and filled the place

with a fluttering surface

I was finally free

to sink into.