Poetry: The Siren

Forward: Sleep is a siren. For those with narcolepsy, sleep sings a song that never fails to ensnare.

The Siren

 

My mother goes with the siren.

‘is not a battle bl’horn!

‘is the crying song of a curl’d hair woman,

called to curling seas.

 

‘is a battle bl’horn

to sleep, to drift.

My mother is called to curling Zs.

A bewitching clif’t enclave,

 

to sleep, to drift.

‘is the sobbing song of a wave’d hand woman

inna bewitching clif’t grave.

My mother goes with the siren.

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