late autumn swings its concrete pendulum
through pleasantly weighted eyelids
on Sunday afternoon  
after a morning of just enough  
too many too much
cigarettes, coffee, cannabis
sex, eggs, bacon, rest, touch
where a man has nothing left to spend
and the smell of a satisfied woman
soaks into the cracks of his hands
that the using them outdoors causes
and his beard shares her pleasure
with the cold air screaming through  
the cracked window of a car
today's thirteenth hour needs a nap
like light blue loves the lowest layer
of an otherwise industry grey day
Written by lightbaron
Published | Edited 28th Nov 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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