up before the sun
awakened to dawning birds
i peer out into the twilight
making out the pink flowers in the garden
the white fogline of the early road
wondering where that distance owl rests
and whose bed you fell into tonight

you don't read the words i write for you
you are ignorant to the bliss, the depth, the turbulence
i am not worth a double click, an opened book
loved but not loved, pages not turned
you don't have time or gravitation to perchance
and i consider return to my disturbed slumber