One in the Morning

One in the morning

sounds like the minute hand of a clock in the dark.
It sounds like your breath through your nose.
One in the morning
smells like the dust that coats the top-side of your ceiling fan and sticks there, even when the fan is on high and only falls when it is off.
One in the morning
smells like fog rolling in under your door even though your door is locked. It smells like your shoes by the front door as they are dusted with tiny water droplets brought in by the fog.
One in the morning
looks like your bare footprints on the rose-colored tiles which have no color in the dark. It looks like the pattern of your footsteps went in time with the ticking of the minute hand of the clock.
One in the morning
feels like the page in your book that was left open so you would know where to continue reading in the day time. It feels like the loosened dust particles that fell from the fan onto the page where you began to walk because the tiles do not exist when it is dark.
Everything jumps as the hour hand strikes two and
One in the morning
feels like going to bed, too.