that they don't like sleeping late,
as sleeping is like
little snatches of death.
I can't fathom that.
I love sleeping late, especially on a weekend.
On friday night
I love to listen to the noise of
the city traffic ebbing away into
silent roads.
Noise draining from the day
is always lovely.
Maps of shadows dance on the walls
candles get lit and amber wine gets poured
into waiting crystal glasses.
Light separates from the day,
we sleep,
we sleep.
