It’s Three O’ clock

It’s Three O’ clock!

Where are you?

I’m awake laughing like life is just a joke!

All alone,

not a soul to hear me moan,

and for once life is good.
Achieved without a toke.

In this mean old world,

where blue is a normal tone,
let's grasp to what we can hold.

Today,

before the cock crows,

I found color in the dark callus of night,

and all you poor fuckers were asleep before midnight.

Wrapped up in falsities for warmth.

Just think I could’ve been you,

and missed out on late life.

Well rested but colorblind.

I smile

The yawning moon hugs us to earth,
I smile at you spinning in the falling cold.

Arms outstretched, disregarding the snow.

You orbit, catching snowflakes with an open mouth;

Tongue at an, “Ahhhhhhh.”

Kissing to keep warm in the frozen sunrise,

you laugh, as I do the same.

The arctic morning chill wakes us.

Silent, as our kisses lay still in the dropped snow.

Your hair lays black in shadows and curls with the turning wind,
it whips wild, grabbing the gusting breeze.

Each dying spin, lays it straight, dawning your collar with a grin.

Stars shimmer for their last time this winter,

you swirl with a laugh,
as gloved-hands catch each other in a giggling fall;

Landing soft as silhouetted angels.

You smile,
and I do the same.