2:43 a.m

I sleep late
rather often
and get up early
hardly there
and wonder if
your walls are better
than the palms
I planted there

I wonder if
the breeze is worth
the cold and wet
and sun and rain
or if the walls
that keep you safe
are charming in
their brick and pain

I wonder if
I am morose
for lack of shelter
and lack of wear
and wonder if
you smile too much
because you breath
a stale-ish air

I wonder if
you draw too heavy
and leave too little
to exhale
or if it will be
my end to
draw easy
on this heavy air