She was sitting cross-legged on her bed in her white kimono, writing in a notebook with an ink pen she dipped in a bottle. ‘Never let a man stay the night,’ she told me. ‘Dawn has a way of casting a pall on any night magic.’ The night magic sounded lovely. Someday I would have lovers and write a poem after.
![She was sitting cross-legged on her bed in her white kimono, writing She was sitting cross-legged on her bed in her white kimono, writing Image](https://www.idlehearts.com/images/she-was-sitting-crosslegged-on-her-bed-in-her-white-kimono-writing.jpg?x85372)