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.