The house is quiet expcept for the incessant "mood music" coming from the next room.
How anyone can sleep through that amalgam of noises and techo-synthesysizers
is beyond anyones grasp. The early morning creeps ever closer as sleep stays
just far enough away to be irritating. Thoughts zig-zag through a mind of things
that need to be done when dawn finally does come. Will sleep get here first?
Will a person be rested enough to start this new day when it does arrive?
Thoughts then turn to you. Thoughts of a conversation held over a refigerator door
full of magnetic poetry. A pointless conversation, but an enlightening one nonetheless.
The lines you composed, the things that were said, all gave me a bit of insight into you.
A call the next day, the sound of your voice, and the smile I could practiacally hear.
A visit the next night, some work done, a few shy touches.Another evening of trying
to keep up witty banter, of trying to read you like a book, but your book remains closed.


By~ ME