Night Reading
Those late hours that might be called early
are set apart from the rest of time.
Day is gone and shows no sign of returning
if you ignore the continual count of the clock.
Near silence and stillness
settle around me with my blanket.
My roommate sleeps soundly,
but I haven’t even considered closing my eyes.
I have a light
and pages of words calling me,
not having to do much to convince me to stay.
In the night,
I have no needs or demands to meet.
In the night,
the world is mine and I recreate
the sights, the sounds, the rules.
Books always hint at magic
but tasting that magic is only possible
when the real world goes to sleep.
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