The In-Between Time

She’s about to wake,
To slip into that
In-between time where

Morning’s scent is pearled and blue,
And the waves of her dreams
Release breath’s steady meter.

Dawn spurns twilight, and
All her nocturnal chatter, so fluid
And easy, dissipates and disappears.

Vapours. Translucent. As jellyfish.
These dreams go, forgotten
As the sun drifts into sight.