monday morning

I awoke and you were between my lips
Until I stretched out the fantasy of night’s longings
I rose and lamented the absence of your scent in my nostrils
I showered and saw the water on your skin
Grafted onto me piece by piece from some
Clandestine nocturnal operation

I drank coffee and saw my reflection
Some beautiful monster I had become
Of your making in dreams late and early
And in the pattern of such formation
There was a taste of the finite and
I called it lust and
It tasted good

Text: © JL Nash, 2013
Images: © Predrag Pajdic with Yohan Campistron, Paris, 2013


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