There once was a girl who loved the 1ams.
She felt most alive when the world was dead.
While the world slumbered on;
She wrote on.
When it was quietest;
She was loudest.
As she sat on her bed, waiting for the moment when sleep would lay claim to her, she thought.
Of things that drift; like feathers, thoughts and slow vast waters
And when sweet sleep finally did lay claim to her, she dreamed of all things lovely, like frost, and wishes.
