A Fate

A Poem by Valentina Cano

Sleep, like a warming glove,
must come to me.
I cannot sit,
awake,
processing thoughts through sieves
of fears and grating doubts.
The night has tightened around me,
a net of silence,
my legs straining to run,
my head a half turn
from twisting off this bed of sweat.
I peer closely in the dark.
The threads I hold so tight
cutting into my trembling skin.

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