'Hey, that's my melody!'
I thought,
as each purple rectangle
gently ghosted
towards me
in the blackness
of sleep.
'How did she know my melody?'
I wondered, seeing
that my chequered composition
of purple sound rectangles
and handwritten rectangles
(in French)
was untouched
in the periphery of my sleep sight.
I continued to listen
to the beautiful sounding
of purple rectangles,
'How did you know??' I asked,
my amazement
causing the melody to instantly
crisp and focus
at the borders of consciousness
into demanding repetition.
She turned off the alarm
at 7:15am
and I was left
with the soundless
of purple rectangles
and the wonder
of her