3 A.M.

It’s 3 a.m.
And I don’t remember
If I woke up
Or haven’t slept.

In the hour,

That kisses,

The night and day.

Wishes to see,

and yet not.

Yearns for the dawn

and still holds on to the dusk

I sit up.

Blushing.

Faint traces of a dream

Or memory

Stick to my lips

Like an after taste

Of jaggery

I lick my lips

Slowly

In anticipation..

Careful

Not to wipe it out completely.

Hoping

This would bring back

Some details.

Some clarity

Some semblance

of sanity

The dream..

Like the taste on my lips

Flirts

Hides

Plays peek-a-boo

Shows itself 

just enough,

For me to know.

It was.

Could be.

Is.

I go back to sleep

Cradled 

In faith.

 - Rhea