Baked at 6:42AM
Laying in this bed preparing for my night’s sleep
Can’t decide if it’s a bit early or a bit late to me
The birds are squawking and chirping away
Violently communicating outside of my window pane
To the street of Pacific
And then suddenly they stop
Only the special few continue but sparsely
Dim red lights illuminate the bed,
the softness of the pillow and comforter emanate
Warmth radiating off this person in the bed with me
Their consistent quiet breath and movement keep me meditative
The bird songs transport me to some place unimaginable
unless you are me
6:45AM
The air is a bit stiller
and my eyes a bit droopier
Coloring In Sins 