If I was to
awake to more
than just a
foggy,hungover,
shadow of a memory
of that girl I know
was here the night
before.
Would I feel less
alone throughout the day?
If there was to be more
than just the water stained
ceiling and the
yellow, faded,
dust dressed lamp
shade to rest
my eyes upon
as the night time
drug laced,hungover
haze falls
from my view.
Would my days
appear brighter?

I always sense
the slightest smell
of her cigarettes and
the taste of stale  *****
in the mornings after .
How I secretly
long for
her pouty lips
that always
seem to carry
that bitter ***** Martini
taste.

All that is left
of her until
the next late
night hour,
unannounced drunken
visit,
is the lip
stick stained cigarette
butts in the abalone
shell.
The indentation
left by her hips and her
shoulder in the down.
And the slightest scent
of her cheap perfume
that always sticks around
for days after
shes gone.

These shadows left
behind by her
curves
and her wit
constantly
reminding me of
how empty this
place truly
is without her presence .

We both apparently
agree
that  its
better this way,
cheap and discreet,
never promised and
always unannounced.
I secretly and simply
go along with
her suggestion.