nothing is real at 4 a.m. but coyotes I didn’t know we had here. they make noise. nothing else does. my breath makes smoke. the air makes smoke against my breath.
winter comes at 4 a.m. when the neighbors are asleep, a sigh the only sign of life. only sometimes. I don’t sigh. I make no noise— (the way it should be)
do faces change when light goes out? do you recognize me in the dark? do eyes become holes, do mouths become holes, is my head a black hole because of the dark?
when the light goes on the neighbors will stir, make noise. coyotes will retreat from where they don’t belong.
it remains unknown whether eyes will return to eyes.