Early morning, late at night.
I heard someone talking about you again.
Unlike most he spoke in reverence of your peace, of your creative space.
Spoke out of love – no one else is around, up during your moment each day.
I haven’t visited in a while.
I have no excuses – only lies to me.
I need to stay up or get up.
4am the time for poetry, novels, stories and if I am lucky, the perfect sentence.