the morning after

You're always beautiful  
the morning after  
when I struggle to remember  
my own name  
lost in the post-glow rush  
of dreams coming  
and coming true  
 
In the golden glow  
of sunlight  
I can believe in angels  
fucking their way  
to the gates of hell  
just to taste the fire  
on their chastity-parched lips  
that long for the purity  
of violation  
 
'Cause we're not really here  
the morning after  
my soul lying somewhere  
inside your body  
and yours lying somewhere  
in mine  
 
In the golden glow  
of the morning  
I am drunk  
sinful and successful at it  
your touch indelibly branded  
on my brazen skin  
that sings the prayers  
of the damned  
 
I can always forget who I am  
the morning after  
lost in the memories  
that border on the edge  
of new-blooming fantasies  
more real than the day  
that lies ahead  
without you  
 
© Indie Adams 2014