The Levitating Woman


The Levitating Woman

She levitates above her bed all night.
Doing an occasional smooth rotation
over the pristine white,
toes pointed ballerina-straight.

A clever housekeeper these days:
doesn’t need to change the sheets.
An exertion never again necessary.

Warmth is not a consideration.
Comfort is her self-spelled float.
Empty air blooms her spine,
moulds to her lightened limbs.

No longer fitful in darkness.
No ruffled coverlet strangling,
No pillow-rock lumps to punch.
No insomniac tussles.

Humming her dead breath,
she turns, easy now.


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6 responses to “The Levitating Woman

  1. I like her. Do you float just above the ground in dreams?

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