What I mostly want is to wake up.
Laying next to the granite floor.
Waking up as in the act.
Waking up is just that.
I wake up perhaps to the cold, to a family member gossiping on the balcony or to the children outside yelling, and I would probably hate it.
I remain silent. Mesmerized by the white room.
I skipped miles to get to my bed
Passed the time I spent in a dream.
Oh, how I want to wake up –
in my bed again.
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