Nodding Away

You’re too sleep-deprived
To arrange these lines—

Every time you think
You’ve composed a phrase,

Your head snaps back up
From whatever dream

You’d been sliding in
Without noticing,

Like someone drowning,
If someone could drown

With so little fight,
By gradual slips,

Under the surface,
Up suddenly, back down,

Which is every day,
In a way, of life.