pretentacles


i often
wake up in the morning
when
everything
is still
washed black and
green.

i don’t always love you.

naked in the midst of
my collared gloom

fingers around the neck
touching

so gentle

it’s not as relaxing
anymore.

my greatest fear
is the morning.

waking up at 2 AM
and waiting
for the next ten hours

for sleep to rise.

and by the sweltering
heat of
afternoon
i realize
that i’ll still be

without you

for another day.

the night is the only eternity i can’t hold on to.




<< | notes | index | >>