When you recede / by Nasuna Stuart-Ulin

Today was a strange day, I think because last night I had trouble sleeping. I lay there, floating in and out of my body in that cottony space between waking and dreaming. The backs of my eyelids alive with traces of light, exploding from darkness like fish flitting quickly through bioluminescent depths. Part of me is terrified of that vibrant stillness, and part of me wants to remain there forever. It's like being back in the womb, I imagine, where there is no up or down; no close or far or big or small or heavy or light. Just you before you were a You.  And the world turning on its axis, hurtling through space as if to say Silly Baby you don't know anything - you still think I'm talking to you? Psych that was rhetorical. No really shut up you're missing the point.

Today was a strange day, I think because last night I had trouble sleeping. I lay there, floating in and out of my body in that cottony space between waking and dreaming. The backs of my eyelids alive with traces of light, exploding from darkness like fish flitting quickly through bioluminescent depths. Part of me is terrified of that vibrant stillness, and part of me wants to remain there forever. It's like being back in the womb, I imagine, where there is no up or down; no close or far or big or small or heavy or light. Just you before you were a You. 

And the world turning on its axis, hurtling through space as if to say Silly Baby you don't know anything - you still think I'm talking to you? Psych that was rhetorical. No really shut up you're missing the point.