dreaming of sleep

All the bodies that were ever present on this earth are still here on this earth. Body-less bones sit strewn across the land, underneath its skin; or are pelted into dust and carried whistling along desert air.

The only bodies not still here on earth are some belonging to astronauts. But mostly, the earth is a vast gravesite. It absorbs the bodies living here, continually; it feeds on them and then feeds them back to us. We are sustaining ourselves via long-distance cannibalism.

All the bodies that ever existed are still here.

When I die, I will join them - all those bodies held captive by our God mother earth. One of them will be me. Maybe it will be soon. I feel my flesh weary enough to become voluntarily battered. The lumps of me are gravitating towards the outside edges of me, trying to escape each other. My body doesn't even want to hold itself together, or to hold me inside of itself any longer. It's too exhausting. All of me wants to lie down alongside the world's many billion other skeletons. It would be so easy to lie still and reset a while, rest a while, rest white.

All the world's bodies are lullabying me to sleep. They mouth wordless words gently into my eyes, lips curled around my sockets, a few hours into each day. I begin living and then I am tired, and they are so courteous beckoning me to sleep. They are the earth's hosts, recruiting permanent guests. Most people don't have ears, but I've spoken their language since I was eleven. I hear their invite. I'm ready to lie down.