The Day After

Porchlit disagreements
making days from snipped sentences and
forgetting the feeling of
making love in the
sterile fluorescence.

Bedspread tears
gathering at the
sunbrowned crinkles of your eyes
as if waiting to see what I’ll say next,
the southern mentality of
preserving politeness has
abandoned my stilted twang and I can only seem to find this
hostile hospitality.

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