I am monday morning
come too early
waiting, dirtied from
the weekend;

come to wash off your alter ego
and decisions,
split like the bill
and all those little hairs
that tickle your face
when the wind whispers secrets
too quiet to decipher.

I am an indecisive shiver
of awakening
and the cool tile bathroom
that calls you from sleep
after the second snooze expired.

I am the hot cracking leather
beneath sweating thighs
a thirty minute traffic jam
after a dull day,
radio buzzing and daydreamy.

I am the tension before rest and release,
cool sheets
and sweet sleep.

C.e.M. Aug.24, revised Aug. 29 2015