To me it will always be about the sunrise;
the way it looks when I haven’t slept and there is beer and whiskey
(and other things besides)
cluttering my veins.
I need to shower; badly need to feel the hot water
and the steam
and make a pattern in the moisture on the glass,
but there is still something
pure about a horizon tinged with pink and blue,
no matter how filthy my blood,
or my body, may be.