Sleeping in a hotel,
Away from home
The mattress seems cold and hard,
Like a prison floor
The body next to mine is warm,
Raising so slightly with her
Shallow morning breaths
How we got here,
I don’t remember
But the emptied bottle of
Grey Goose by the bed
Seems to be a clue
It even explains the aching,
A dull pain behind my eye
I roll closer to the stranger
Next to me, draping an arm
Over her soft skin
As if hoping to absorb,
The name of this beauty
Her hair, like straw,
A golden brown, the faint
Scent of smoke
From the night before
Soft lips press to mine
“Good morning”, she says,
Her voice seeming angelic
“Hey”, I reply,
And we share a smile,
After we rise
“Last night”, the words
Fumbling from my mouth
Before I could even finish,
“Don’t worry about it”,
The door shutting behind her,
She left me with nothing,
But I, was in love

For now it is the best time of day
When all the souls have vanished,
I will be wandering....
and wondering....
The best time of day is when all has calmed
When the moon casts its aesthetic spell.
When the body and soul seem to intertwine in a manifestation of love, and joy.
All is love; at night.
When the stars shine so bright they seem to calm your thoughts
I wish you would come more often
It is quite peaceful,
at night.