Friday, April 5, 2013

Two hours before 7 am

pried-open eyes manage
a stumbling walk
to cold tile, shower knob

fumbling fingers find
white socks and tee
dark shorts and khakis

somewhat water-energized
hands rub oil, lotion
into thirsty pale skin

vague thoughts search
for the abandoned lover
of a dream left on the pillow

teasing glimpses return,
whipping and driving the
memory to nocturnal trips

the coachman cannot,
best be his aim, catch the
fleeting subconscious spill

black liquid hardly fulfills
its purpose, thus dozing
comes with the dawn

gradual light pushes
through drapery, falls
upon exhausted traveler

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