I change my sleep patterns
the way beach sand scripted recovers
from the constant wave action
of all-time re-sweeps
day life relentlessly surrenders
in the beachy-prone of moment’s passing
over and over again
until the wakefulness is of another dimension
and the rhythm forthcoming is ever encouraging
lucid dreaming in the becoming
a day life of its own
in a prejudicial way
it is called sleep
but honestly,
as seen from the other side,
it is another life
fluidly on its own . . .
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