this early morning

This early, early morning.
2 o'clock early morning
when no one else is awake
and you can walk around and just imagine that everything is perfect
and not as messed up as it all seems
and it's just you.
and the dark streets
alone. in the moonlit streets.
and it's so quiet you can hear your socks on the gravel.
it's so quiet, you feel you should tip-toe...or it may echo...someone may hear you...it's so quiet you almost stop breathing...
for just a second...
you almost stop living...
your heart beats fast, as if it's a drum
"doof doof doof"
and it's so quiet you can hear even that...
and your sharp intakes of breath, and the warmth of the spirits you breathe
out into the icy cold wind.
and you can imagine...just for a second...
that this is how it is.
and you can imagine that there's nothing else.
because that's how you like it.
and you can imagine, just for a while...
you can imagine anything on those short night walks...
you can imagine
this world is perfect