At 4 in the morning.

Around the world people are sleeping. People are waking up for breakfast. People are exercising to live longer. People are doing things to bring themselves closer to death. But the world is abuzz with life, with love, with soul.

And at 4 in the morning, my world is quiet.
I can hardly hear her breathe.

I can only see the slight rise and fall of her chest.
I turn my head.
He sleeps facing me, head buried at the edge of his pillow.
Her body is warm, bundled up.

At 4 in the morning, my world is complete.