This is my early hour standing alongside a bitter night, just as I’ve always done. The sun is on the verge of staging another battle I try to keep the moon from her bitter rival. Oh what I’ve done? The early songbirds are getting ready to sing, perhaps this is the morning the jealous moon has already won. From the heavens to our beloved Gods I glance at the hour, I swear she swore, “Just a couple of days” she promised. I won’t believe her anymore, for today I am love sick and in heavy withdrawal. Time is freezing cold I look and wonder are you still reading my poems? I’m no stranger to love these words of hers have been building. Slowly over time I still undress her with my naked eyes, I stand here in clothing wanting to devour the girl. The last time we spoke she let out this laughter and I had to whisper, “Fuck, if I’m not in love.” Sitting closer now against a tiny space heater I dare not move away from its precious tendrils. I’m all caught up in her now fighting against the frigid cold. Oh spare me this hour spare me her love I defy her pull, if I am to be the sun and she my moon I’ll sit huddled now until it gets warmer. I’ve almost an hour left my eyes draw weary shall I deny them thy rest? I draw my strength from pen and paper, even if it were just virtual blogging paper.