cat hair on the pillow
what was i thinking
morning light through slats
i'm not the first
to wake in a strange room
in a strange bed
looking at a strange cityscape through slatted blinds
with a strange woman's leg
brushed up against mine
we roll into each other
our rhythms don't match
she doesn't articulate her thoughts
it takes forever
she get up quietly
goes to the bathroom
i start to get dressed
text lyft
Poetry by one trick pony
Read 685 times
Written on 2016-01-17 at 00:30
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Elle |
Lawrence Beck |
one trick pony |
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