You left me burning in the morning sun,
Which leered through unwashed windows by the bed;
Cold sheets reminding that you were now gone,
Vapors of vodka torturing my head.
I could still scents your pungent sweet perfume
Mixed with erotic sea smells on my fingers;
Your sultry essence saturates the room,
Melodic laughter in my memory lingers;
The pillow near me, smeared with lipstick blue,
Though in dim light, I thought the color black;
Your absence now, these memories misconstrued,
Excluding midnight dreams, you might come back.
I gazed across the nightstands’ grimy top;
The money still was there, the rose was not.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.