You told me you want to fall asleep
and never wake up. You told me you
want to live at the bottom of the sea. That
you want to float off the face of the earth.

i tell you the facts: that gravity will hold
you close to the planet just as it holds the
tide to the beaches, the moon to its orbit,
like a protective mother cradles her children;

that the human body floats in water, naturally
buoyant, the ocean has swallowed whole ships
but even babies can float on their backs,
can keep themselves from sinking just by taking a breath;

that the mechanics of falling asleep are still largely
a mystery, that scientists don’t have many answers
yet, that your room is ten by twelve feet and that
the people who built it never meant it to be a coffin.

The facts are these: that in the morning
the kaleidoscope of light through your
bedroom window is shining just for you
and I want you to be awake to see it.