Dear Poetry,

Late night/early morning feelings are always the easiest to put into words. They exist without the impeding distractions that barge into our worlds. Foresight that strips the words from our lips, that renders our pens deprived of ink, our fingers frozen, our pencils unsharpened, our minds unbothered, our hearts untouched. The wee hours have the ability to evoke a notion of beginning, youth, acceptability of uncertainty, vulnerability where nobody sees. They open our minds to open our hearts, to open our mouths to say: "Everything that has transpired is real and will no longer be held at bay."