Morning Four Draft 3

The Hungover Mornings

Moring Four

Draft 3

Chase L. Currie

Edit by Larry Sorkin

 

 

The sluggish clouds

Whisper at 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 loosie the same way

She did me last night,

She sits up in bed,

                Sheet

                Draping 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

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,

 

Blood stressed

To boiling point,

Like all dances with

The Devil’s brewski

The agony bound

Rock bottom racing for me,

 

Rain gasps at

The nudeness of her,

In my chilled bed

                ‘A smoke, my cool cat?’

Locked in my fleeting gaze

Her out reaching fingers,

 

Never wanting this slice

Of time to end

 

                But the cigarette burns

                In the same vicious way that time does …