Box Fan Murmurs

Sleep eludes me

And I begin to

Retrace memories,

Tasting the experiences,

Painting different outcomes,

Waiting for the light of day.

The box fan murmurs,

Playing the soundtrack,

Making melodies

For my mental album.

A 5-year-old shares my pillow.

Arms over my neck,

Legs thrown over me,

Soft snores and mumbles,

And the sweet smell

Of an innocent new life.

Where would I be

Without the presence of

These little ones

Loving me,

Holding me,

Healing me?

I toss every so often

Finding comfort in the now.

I trace over the past

Weaving it to all that is,

All that I’ve become as

The box fan murmurs…

“Let God. Let it go.”

I hear the melodies in the room.

The sounds of ancestral chatter,

Each whispering through

The cycling of the fan.

Life happens in this second,

During sleepless nights

As murmurs echo round and round.

Millie America 5/2022

My sweet baby boy passed out… I wish I was sleeping as peacefully as him.

The Us

unmade bed

I lay listening to your breathing,

heavily struggling through muffles

of snore while I put a pillow on my head.

I begin to listen to my own breath,

deepened to the lungs,

rhythmically mimicking heart beats,

each one attached with love for you,

thump after drum whispering your name.

I am forever altered,


expanded because of you

and the things we avoid at times.

I am growth, lessons, challenges

of things to come

because of your perception

of me and all that isn’t.

I am so much more than I was yesterday.

And, in silence,

we dance energetically,

next to one another,

reading, watching television,

playing on the computer,

but we are there in communion of love.

Whenever I feel the need to pull away,

there’s a tug,

an umbilical cord from your soul

pulling me back,

as if saying, “I’ve got this and you are okay!”

So…I stay

fighting uncertainty

but trusting in you,

in me,

and most importantly…in us.

Mystical Dreams


I watch from the trees

swinging on a hammock

the earth swaying with the wind.

Lost in my journal,

a jungle of words

sit waiting for the gathering

of fire and hearth.

The creek never stops the flow


cascading privately


a memorized path

while I keep holding on

to the bark rooted inside

of me.

Wind chimes dance to

an alto gypsy symphony

resembling Irish moors

long ago in a remote

country side.

The flapping of wings

flutter all around me,

embracing the openness

as I emerge from here to there

through waking dreams

in the gorge of a private forest.

3 A.M.


I hear heartbeats pounding on the bed,

against the floor,

through a thousand pillows separating

the cold from body warmth.

I hear you dreaming,

completing yet another concrete brick

somewhere in that analytical brain full of puzzles.

I hear the wind shifting,

swirling erratically through leaves, chimes, and

the water hitting the shore against the land.

I hear my brain shifting through consciousness

trying to make sense of things

that at 3 AM I cannot fix.

I hear my cells duplicating, expanding,

moving though the ocean of water inside.

I hear love entering from afar,

snoring in another dimension,

wishing I was there to witness the entrance

to life without judgment before and after birth.

I hear the whispering of the walls,

ancestors from here and there,

the universe, and my guides

while I can’t make sense of the voices

I sit quietly anticipating an answer

to all those things that in waking hours

do not ask questions.

But, through the witching hours

the noises of the galaxies all join forces

in our room…

while all I can do is reach out to you

to find support, grounding, and love.


Ientanglement watch the gestures
of sleep
embracing you,
mesmerized by the
childlike peace painted
On your manly face.
I want to enter you
sharing those experiences,

mold into those expressions.
I lightly caress
your face as you wrinkle
your nose and mouth —
that mouth that kisses
throughout my essence.
I smile,
gently teasing your morning
dreams and fantasies.
This is our ritual
as you wake,
closed eyes avoiding sunrise,
“Good morning babe!”
and I dive into the vastness
of your arms for a little while
slipping into my own fantasies.

Depth of Space

 embrace (1)

The bed felt deserted

through the cast away

of darkness

as I stretched

both directions,

arms flapping to find you

swimming in another ocean of space,

wrapped in blankets

away from my warm side.

I inched back towards you

finding the heat

embracing you

in the solitude

created by distance.

I want that…

I snuggled tightly,

forcing my hips to find

the curvature of your back,

my hands kneading your thighs.

I need this…

no wall of pillows between us,

barriers separating

sleep and dreams.

Let me go into yours…

let me dive into your land,

the fantasies

and desires.


I see you…

there in that corner

of conscious existence

and you pull me

                                                  knotting your fingers into….

Insomniac Partner

You were on me
without touching
as I tossed and turned
to find comfort.
I could hear you sigh,
groan in desperation
for slumber as well.
I laid there thinking,
my brain twisting and turning
with moving pictures of the past.
I hate nights like this.
I count the cars passing,
the leaves shuffling,
pine cones falling in the water,
the wind wrestling with the screens.
Every so often I feel your rub
of skin trying to find a nook
to settle for the night,
nestling deeper into the hours.
I found a piece of heaven
wrapped behind you
as your heat warmed me
with no conditions.
I stayed there until I, too, left
the silent world of insomnia.
What have I done
to deserve you
as we join
in this dance of life?