The Architecture of a Yawn

A slow arch, without plan or haste,
the mouth opens in a silent design.
It is not hunger, nor direct threat,
but the inner canvas of a realm.

The void swells up, a deep breath drawn,
that even the air seems to oversee.
A moment stolen from the world,
where thought begins to navigate
before yielding, a slight pause,
to the sweet weight of an ancient sleep.