Form

Little Sleep,

..Unplug me from this blur of false portent;
I want dreams, real dreams to strike and bruise and flee,
not waking hopes that wish and linger.
Freed from the cant and won’t that props the walking
feed me dollops from your starry bowl.
Don’t let me think.

………………RRReliably,

………………………….._________________________
…………………………………………((Signature)

……………………………

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