Morning is leaking in all over the house, Except for one room. You can still feel last night when you enter there - The blinds press hard against the windows Like dozens of anxious hands. Your nightmares half return to you, Monsters unsure of their cues. Soon the light will take its positions Through the usual alchemy, Turning the blinds and porch light into yesterday. But for now, there is still some night here, And it is not a room where you wish to linger While you struggle to forget last night, While the rest of the house returns to light.