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I can't sleep. 
Even if I've been up since wee hours. 
My minds eye is doing cartwheels around memories, lens choices and wooden floors.

So I'm drinking tea, listening to music and looking at photography.

Wallon should be a word. 
Meaning melted in uncertainty and yet certain that there is an Is.

*smile*

waltz me to sleep

How come that 'extra' hour of sleep never really comes through with a flourish like you'd hoped?

I feel defragmented. 
As though my nightly restoration was caught lacking.
And little bits of my body and mind are still with Winken, Blinken and Nod.
Wondering if the soothing power of coffee will draw them back together.

The phrase, "mew upon the wing" is ringing in my ears.

for sleep. To stop thinking for at least 4 hours is a blessing I often forget.