I drag my leaden limbs toward that which I want most.
To sit in the soft light of quiet.
Devoid of the itch to get away.
Steady in between being awake and pleasantly tired.
I could exist only here, allowing time to warp outside of this space.
Holding and being held by an encompassing embrace of the lightest touch.
I wish to stay here.
Breathing steady as my head lightens itself of incessant natures mistaken for norm.
Do not join me in this time of suspension.
Keep your footsteps and inquiries quite to yourself for a time.
I am relieving myself of the task of interest.
It is time to indulge in a heart heavy with satisfaction.
For I have found this quiet, the softness I crave constantly.
Mental Ground 