Our bunked and nudged to window brings windchills through glass. We tuck into ourselves for warmth but don't pull the bed away. Us three wake before mother and father and wait for their padding feet over. Until then we must lay in bed and listen to our quiet. In this time, we learn to look. We look out the windows with our fingers and eyes to game each other's quiet. None of us break the rules of the game because the rules are not ours. The structure of rules not ours we love because none of us feel the need to keep. Only our own rules will break us.