Hour Twenty Four

I imagine that a lot of poets right now are ready to sleep. So that is the theme of the final prompt. Write a poem about sleep. What it is like to sleep, what it is like to dream, what you are dreaming about. But don’t fall asleep until you press Publish!
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Sleep, dead on arrival. Dreams,
missing in action. Growing out
of my pineal gland, my spirit
reaching up for a starlight ballet;
finding only the soft pillow kiss
of midnight moon clouds.

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