I want to write a poem
(because today I woke up still a poet)
about things, that glow in the dark.
there is love making, which the night cannot hide.
when windows fog, and smells become real,
and things that were once quite become loud. things once far away,
become close. and clocks will fall from dressers,
if the bed is pushed up against it.
(thump thump crash)