The wave washed me ashore, my legs heavy with sleep.
The wave — the wave, not water but sleep.
I don’t move, so as not to throw off the last bits of it, until I remember the pencil within reach.
And fall back down.
I am in here.
The wave washed me ashore, my legs heavy with sleep.
The wave — the wave, not water but sleep.
I don’t move, so as not to throw off the last bits of it, until I remember the pencil within reach.
And fall back down.
white pebble 