The train whistle blares away 2 am... And with it leftover pieces of meaning. Eyes still half closed with ethereal haze... Shadows slink back and forth on the ceiling. The fan swirls, soothing like cicada rhythm... Sleepy head tucked where the covers are meeting. Desperately trying to get back to that lucid place... Where it was you who I was seeing. A terribly caged thing my fervent heart is... When enticed from just an inkling. Set me free and let it kindle us both here... Waking tangled would be greater than dreaming.