I Like You At Three In The Morning

I like to call you at three in the morning.

I don’t care if it’s taboo or if all my friends warn me against it.
I like to call you at three in the morning.

I like the way you think at three in the morning.
I like the way I think at three in the morning.
There’s something about that hour that makes a person come alive,
and I want to come alive with you.

I like you at three in the morning
because I am too self-conscious to call you at any other time of the day.
I guess I don’t know what it’s like to call you earlier than
the coolest part of the evening, when the breeze in the air feels nostalgic enough
to make me want to call anyone I’ve ever seen in my life.

I like you at three in the morning
because you are all I want at three in the morning.
I am addicted to the way I feel when my mind is foggy
and my thoughts about you
roll off my tongue,
onto the shivers that trace your spine as my hand follows.

I like you at three in the morning
because it is the only time I find safety
in expressing my feelings for you.
I like that I can hide it later, denying
what I said so I have more time
to reflect on what I confessed to you.

I like you at three in the morning
because I am truly, spiritually and physically me at three in the morning,
and I know you are, too.
I like how the world pauses for a while as we share
moments of ourselves with each other until the sun rises and
our heads clear.
I am happiest at three in the morning.

I like you at three in the morning
because we are the most peaceful in the darkness.
I like how we don’t talk about us or what we are or aren’t.
There’s a wave of mystery that surrounds us at three in the morning,
and I never want that to change.

I like you at three in the morning.
I will always like you at three in the morning
because I will never be brave enough to call you
at any other time.