At 3 AM

by aliceflores

There is a woman who sits at the end of my bed.

She sits so still,

as if not to disturb me.

She sits but it is not concerning to me.

She is tall and thin,

her hair is too dark to see in the black of 3 AM.

She is not groomed,

her nails so long you have to notice,

so long you can almost feel them on your neck.

I can feel her seeing me.

We both sit silently during the night.

I can feel her seeing me.

She starts to move,

she starts to hum.

The tune is new to me.

It is a melodic remedy to the silence this room holds.

She hums louder.

She goes.

i forget everything and all i can do is follow…

So now,

in the black of 3 AM,

here we sit,

silently at the end of some other persons bed.