The stuff of
Saturday mornings
coffee and
drunk spirits
they are made for us

we wear
pajamas in
the afternoon
you might not deserve me
but I’ll
smile at the
memory
you left

your smell
on the pillow
it's death by
headache
the aftermath
is painful
but water in a
wine glass
heals

I take a
shower for my
insecurities
droplets
down
my
back
don’t want to be empty
but alone.