Obv, Part II

Slow, silent dawn makes its way across the water towers and chimneys of Greenwich Village. Only incessant air traffic and the occasional bird announce their presences. The air is lush, the trees sleeping. I lay my head down at the foot of my bed and stare out at peach skies and steadfast brick walls. Quiet, comforting, unrelenting. The hydrangea on my window sill flourishes. How can I go to sleep now?

I don't want to miss the magic.