Well...it's about midnight now,

And I've spent the whole night missing you.

My homework sits on my desk, forgotten,

Because what are vectors to me when 

The only gravity I can feel is wherever you are;

Truly, if the window were open,

I might slip out and drift away west,

And to the north, and set down 

My bare feet on your windowsill like

A silent Peter Pan, come to spirit you

Away, and you would take my

Cold fingers in your warm hands,

and fly away with me.

But no, the pencil-scratched lines

Swell slowly back into my mind,

Weighting my ankles back to the floor,

And I can but sigh, reaching out 

To draw the eraser once again

Across the faint lines of my

Nighttime daydream.