4 am 

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. 

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