Morning Four

The Hungover Mornings

Morning Four

Draft 2

Chase L. Currie

 

The sluggish clouds

Whispers on my window,

Begging me to stay in the

Dullness of the storm,

 

But I remain in these sheets

For a vastly warmer reason,

 

Her lips kiss the loosies the same way

She did me last night,

She sits up in the bed,

                The sheets

                Draping in her

                Warm lap,

The smoky mist slowly pours out

As I stand in the window,

 

Sweat in my hair

Her smell on my touch,

Our Jazz played all out during the night

In the glow of a lone lamp,

 

Her brown hair rolling like

Waves on my chest,

Falling like water

On her skin,

 

And I hungover with Love and

                Lust,

 

My blood stressed

To a boiling point,

Like all dances with

The Devil’s brewski

The agony is abound

Rock bottom is racing for me,

 

The rain gasp at

The nudeness of her,

In my chilled bed

                ‘A smoke, my cool cat?’

Locked in my fleeing gaze

Her outreaching fingers,

 

Never wanting this slice

Of time to end …

 

                But the cigarette burns

                In the same vicious way, that time does …

Reviews

[A Poor Player]

This reads simply gorgeously. Evocative and emotive. Smoldering and sensual. That last line really did it for me. We never want that cigarette to end. Beautiful work

[CLCurrie]

Oh thank you so much, that means a lot to me.