The Morning After

by Stephanie Michelle

It was July the 14th I think, and the

sun scattered across your face, you

we’re beside me

 

We had awoken from our fever dream, our

whiskey fueled

evening full of

I missed you’s

 

Last night you spoke to me

like song

and I hadn’t touched you in

weeks

 

I wish I hadn’t build my bed in you.

 

One softer, more alluring

than my own, one

that promised

forever.

 

I started to pick the old sunburn off

of your back,

plucked the skin from your

nail beds

 

tried to hold your hand, always

twice bigger than mine

 

I think

we avoided the question.

 

The clock on your wall

struck ten

And I inhaled you,

everything I could before

 

you were gone again.

 

Your fathers cologne

a perpetually furrowed brow

your drums,

arms around my back and your

rusty voice in my ear…

 

Your clock struck

again

July 15th

and

 

We disappeared

into the

months ahead.