my x-rays claim i grind my teeth

at night while fast asleep

but i only feel a chalky taste

when i count a thousand sheep

my mouth propels as i take flight

skies cleared out just for me

yet when at last light warms my face

i dread what blooms beneath

for therein lies the darkest weed

flow’ring only in the sun

tendrils grasp without escape

my resistance fast outdone

pricked i fall by serpiginous vine

whose toxin leaves no trace

thus returned am i to rotten earth

my bones, my spirit, my grace