In sleep, life’s constraints
are unbuttoned and unzipped,
then cast off with the rest
of the laundry in the hamper.
My fluffy pillow, a giant sponge,
to sop up any leftover worries
spilling out my ears from my mind.
In sleep, the good guys always finish first,
so it’s my number that wins the lottery.
In sleep, I can fly with dragons,
be invisible and cast magic spells.
I can take flying carpet rides
to almost anywhere, reading minds,
seeing through walls, and solving problems
– even my own.
In sleep, there are no wrinkles or gray hair,
and varicose veins are merely beauty marks.
The mirror on my wall says
I’m the fairest one of all
because the genie in my pocket
grants my every wish.
My dream world is my haven.
There I can still believe
in fairy tales and guardian angels,
being in love with happy endings,
and only there,
can I still believe in you …
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