sunday morning

once again,
your scent stuck in my head-
solitary confinement.
picked it up right where you left it.
a dent in my bed
where we slept
together for the first time
last night and yes,
I do mean slept.

where you let me kiss
your lips, your neck but
had to put it to an end
because, to put it simply:
things are complicated.

arms around your
celestial body
warm rush
should have
been enough-
and it was

but
come morning
you woke repeatedly
each time asking
"don't you ever sleep?"
yes meant
intermittently-
stuck in a succession of
tidbit dreams all trying
to satisfy the impossible
inquiry of what the hell we
think we're doing.

my intent still to
kiss you with fresh breath
but how where when
as is it seems your
love for me is dependent
on your blood alcohol content?

upon leaving,
you caught sight of the mirror
glass copy of your body,
make up dreamt away,
clothes you slept in,
hair gone wild as weeds,
said "oh god, don't look at me."
walked to the bathroom,
started puking.

I'm glad I finally got to see
some of your
natural beauty.