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Sleep

 This power function that you indulge in and avoid. Sleep must blink, while you ride. What isn’t sleep slips past, or almost. You can think about numbers and those who turned dreams. Freud wrote a book about himself eating olives, confusing sleep. Down time miasma listed in visual expression without time. Or if time existed, you could record the pictures and gaze upon an unreliable field. You can’t run in your sleep because, but only for your own good. Are you then good at all or has tectonic shifts created new plenary place. Focus! You are awake now, or should be. You were all day, now sleep time fashions evocations of straining just to meet. This plain of advantage sustains rest and relief. The village in you endures.

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