6/21/2016
It’s half past dawn, and I still linger on your left side of the bed.
With face down, as I inhale your breath deep into my blood stream.
And I chant a prayer on to your cheek, wishing for you to stay in your sheet.
Weekend calls. White light falls. Ten hours after our evening strolls.
Stop mumbling lullabies, there are waterlilies floating on your swimming pool eyes.
Exhilarating marks on your backbone resemble the sound of July.
Summertime dew, polluted charms, don’t keep me away from your one night arms.
Half past brunch, no last name, maybe I’ll keep you in the back of my vein.
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