Mornings

Spoiled sick by your curdled fingers

your memory lingers

like milk slipping off the back of my mind

like kids and swings in the summertime

Hold fast, your eyes are far away

Listen close, the sounds darkness makes

When the sun slurps sleep from my cheeks

your eyes and mine meet

again

like chocolate red ribbons beckon

pupils open wide to drink your presence

then escape

as day breaks knuckles on night’s secrets.

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One comment

  1. Lex Garcia · June 20, 2014

    This is stunning. Love the way it flows. (:

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