The morning after

Visions

There is a certain lightness.
From absinthe’s vapours?
Or conversations with long-absent friends,
remembered scents and secret glances
at pretty freckles and forbidden skin?

Or could it be the leafy whirlpools
of a mild autumn’s day?

But still, a certain likeness –
a whispering of wanton lips,
that leaves behind in last night’s mist
a trail of my discarded burdens
and that imagined goodnight kiss.

– o –

November 2010-February 2011

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