Cheryl Dumesnil Poem

This is the poem I received in my email box today from poets.org. I love the meshing of a vulture and mitochondria.

Prayer for Sleep
by Cheryl Dumesnil

The chiropractor sent me home
with my left ankle taped, my neck
cracked, and instructions not to sleep

on my belly, so when it came time
for bed, I dropped a tequila shot,
laid back and closed my lids, entrails

exposed to vultures of bad dreams.
From the neighboring pillow,
my love whispered theories

of meditation, biofeedback, post-
traumatic stress, and prayer. When
she asked, "If a divine creator

made the universe, who made
the divine creator?" I mumbled,
"Are you trying to talk me to sleep?"

She smiled, then babbled
past midnight, contemplating out loud
the metaphysics of leaf production,

the wonder of molecules
that make up our bed, the web
of my cell structure connected

to hers, until I fell asleep,
imagining the mitochondria
of words, thinking, if god is

love, let me sleep to this sound of her voice.