Stagnant
It’s the effortless secret
Of sleep
That pulls you into slumber
Without you knowing
And the cool ripples of stillness
Unfurling to the corners of your pinkies
Sinking
Drifting
A softness uncoiled in your spine
An unfelt chill that expands
And settles
Letting you exist outside of yourself
For just the night
Letting your eyes succumb to their own weight
Happily drowning in the subconscious
Yet floating
Unmoving
So perfectly stagnant
The moments just before dawn
Are always the most silent
Before the birds sing their song
Before we slip back into existence