Trying to Sleep

Small as a breath, I jump

down the wet throat of a night

hatched in hunger, whittled

of its tears to cry;

I fold around its blisters

as they curl into vines.

I scratch hard, swallowed

past woven castles in the air, 

unfurling a creaking chorus sung

swinging from knotted bridges.

Then I am still

awake-

scatter-boned wings rake

the light from the sky;

it breaks to spill more.