Last night I saw my body as a corpse,
it was rigid and it looked cold.  I was
grey and final and I felt happy to give
my body to the earth, to rid myself of that
tiresome, fleshy suit, and retire my
heavy armor. And I watched in delicious
pleasure as my skin decayed and melted from
my dry, stony bones as I returned to the soil.

I was a naked machine leaving nothing
behind but a hard ball that lie at the base of my
brittle skull, compact, full of old words and salt
and blood, and all things that make up memories.
I saw you reach inside of me and pick it up.
I watched as you carried it with you.
I want you to do that.

When I woke, I felt my body against those
crisp sheets and I crossed my arms over
my chest. I straightened my legs,
restricted to an imaginary space I created
with the air surrounding me.
I was still. The insides of my eye lids were
black and inviting, and I waited there until
I could smell the cool soil above me.


Celeste Perez is a student at Marylhurst University. She is currently pursuing a degree in English Literature with a focus in Creative Writing. She lives in West Linn, Oregon. “Buried In My Sleep” won first prize in Marylhurst University’s 2013 Writing Contest for Community College Students. This is her first publication.

Photo courtesy of DeeAshley via Creative Commons Flickr