Late That Morning
She woke up
the bedsprings creaked
we both became
conscious
we left
the radio on
all night
the music melted
like lipstick beneath
a nervous sweat
the fan blades
cooled us, droned
embraced the smoke
from our cigarettes
I saw all of this
with sleep
still in my eyes
with her number
smear-inked on my hand, fading
god, "smear-inked" is perfect.
ReplyDeletethe whole thing is.