The Morning After

the morning after lives on with a sigh
the headache from too much wine
memories etched in the erotic mind
fine wine with a touch of the divine

crumpled on the floor a forgotten underwear
too big to be mine too small for him
the night was a little unclear
except for the lipstick on the mirror

I love you he has written
with an expensive lip colour
I look at the stub, a little forlorn
I had saved for that shade of lavender

I waited for a month
didn't get the phone call
moving on always remembering
the hangover, the morning after