My eyelids are falling
Like felled trees in the forest
My words are milky like drunken clouds
My breathing is slow and heavy like
A market woman’s feet in the evening

I am sleepy, drowsy, swimming and
I am about to fall awake –
Do you think I’m dreaming right now?
I can’t tell the difference
Do I write poems in my dreams

And forget when I awake?
The dream is the poem, a poem is a dream
I must leave you behind in the dream now, my love
Where my words will live on while
I wake asleep in the morning, in the morning.

– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.