Morning after

Dreams yawn in sockets of empty eyes,
unshaved legs rub themselves
warm, the almond cold
clattering. Nights singular
‘neath layers of wool,
provoking spasms, adamant tiptoes
round the navel flaw-
flowering eloquence
mature loneliness.

Fallen are those dreams
of wishful sighs,
kissing caffeine-milk from
your tongue. Dry fingers sparkle
with your name, moaning impatient.

©Mohana Das

14 thoughts on “Morning after

  1. “Kissing caffeine-milk…” truly descriptive of those cold winter snuggle sessions, half-awake, half wishes, half dreams. Beatifully dreamy and yet awake to unexpected promise, Mohana.

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