"9 AM" 


After the explosion
We lie amid debris
I'm well aware I'm new at this,
And so she smiles at me. 

We're not beautiful, she says
But beauty all is fake
The fashion, dear, it's everything
It swallows in its wake. 


She lifts one leg
And shifts it right
To make her on my waist
And she leans down
And hair falls free
Haphazard, on my face


"Now, if I remember
Your apartment....
There'll be 
Six brown eggs
Each in a breast,
Next to a large,
Unhappy fish. 
In the refrigerator Door
Lies half a stick of 
Butter, and a note
To buy some more.
What else?
Oh, right. The jam
All clumps, delicious wet
You leave out near
The counter, to 
In tragedy, forget."



And we talk about my food
As it tiptoes past
the expiration

And then she bites my nose
For my bad reaction


And she falls off, clear
Off the bed
To giggle on the floor

And when I make my way, in jerks
To brush my teeth and hair,
All sticky from The Night Before
She clings to me by anke-grip, and cries, 
"Don't leave again!" 
"Again" of course
Figmented from 
A thousand Dramaed sighs

And we are tangled in ourselves
All legs and feet and awful breath,
That morning brews
In her sun-filled Labyrinth.

Until we are in full Descent
Upon my tiles of white.
And then I fight and gasp, 
"Please, Woman, lemme go.
I need to go
Wash off the Night."