You bent to sleep – again
drunk? Lipstick is slipped
Do not wake – not to me –
not to my modest veered
dream at daybreak’s kiss
You rang stored numbers
I will answer [to my own]
He’s long-divorced – hope
snatched by a cock & bull
story of whatever fits you
[not his 3 kids with issues
as your mother points out]
As your mist-breath-of-gin
cools [& sleep evaporates]
you rise drought-mouthed
unable to repair loose truth
[lost by your mounting lies]
I can see his fingered grips
in spotted sooty bruises on
you – your evident hangover
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