Valentine’s Hangover

Blinds separate rays of completion
as the sun inches to retake its position
above the day’s forecast clouds.
Last night, we weaved our existence
into a passage of rites right after a spiked drink.
Our clothes are strung about the floor
as we wake in bed one day after a Sunday.
Our kiss is a sign of life, echoing its expression.
Our heads ache behind our red eyes as we dress,
promising not to let last night wrap around
our heads because falling in love would kill us.

Twitter – @AC0040

(© 2023 AC)

(WattpadAmazon KindleSpillwordsThe Writers ClubThe Indie Book Store)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s