2 am, knowing better than to pick up the phone,
Resisting the melody of a dial tone
Signaling the start of a call one of us always regrets

Steering away from the beauty of the moment
Your tired voice answers
And settles the aches and pains in me

Saving us hours of drunken,
Hazy conversation.
Missing moonlit confessions never meant
To break the air around us

Choosing instead, to crawl alone
Into an unmade bed.
To let the stars drag me into sleep again
Forgiving myself my weaknesses.