On insomnia (part 742)

I dreamed of the Golden Gate Bridge falling on my house.

I dreamed of sipping sweet mango nectar and wondering where it had been all my life.

I dreamed of my brothers when they were little and innocent.

I dreamed of standing in line, waiting to be picked.

I dreamed I was alone and pregnant in an empty house, about to give birth.

Then my dreams stopped, and so did my sleep.