the lullaby dragonfly hovers over the cot of any sleeper who has not yet fallen asleep. its four long wings beat at a frequency near the slow breath of dreamless rest. anyone within a few feet finds their pulse adjusting; the eyelids grow heavy without sentiment.
it is not gentle so much as accurate. it leaves once the breathing is right. it dislikes radios. on nights when the building's pipes hum, the dragonflies hum slightly off-key, deliberately, to re-tune the room.
cousin to the lullaby fish, with which it shares a vocation but not an element. tolerated by the curtain bat. competing entry under ritual for inducing sleep.
— a long blue insect drifted above me. i recall nothing else. — p.s.