The streets are silent

At 4 am
The birds will
close your eyes.

Mine shine
with nervous
exhaustion.

Gotta drive
through snowy back roads,
darkened neighborhoods-
straightening the curves,
shooting the lines.

Like a nautilus
the chambers fill one by one
to prevent drowning.

Close the holes
before I over
flow.

The days are longer.
And in this light
it seemed the thing to do

Eyes confirmed
a colored withdrawal.
But I choose to close the door instead.

I want
to be done
but already a chamber exists
slow to close
and I am not done
with you
yet.