Semiotics of Sleep

Neurons fire and
synapses spark.
Somewhere between the signifier and
the signified lies
the root of our
Freudian freedom.

In stygian silence
we stretch our waxen wings
reaching for that molten sun
of impossibilities.
Till the alarm wakes us, and
we drown.

Image attribution to
“Wings” by gpmenga is copyright protected under a Creative Commons 2.0 license.

nanopoblano1

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