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.