
Since you left I haven’t slept worth crap.
The sheets that once slipped, silk against
My nipples, now scratches and clings.
The dyslexic street lamp outside my bedroom
Window taps out “miss you, too” in Morse Code.
Drifting off into the whirlpool of frustration
My mind wanders to those moments of
Post-coital haze. Early evening.
The sun has dipped and amber light
Watches through the gap in the curtains.



