Struggling from dirty grey sheets with

a soul in desparate rebellion from

last night’s too much tequila I

struggled my sad angry body to

that dark filthy bathroom from

those months ago when she left.

 

Gazing into the crooked mirror my

heart again grieved seeing the

perfect red lipstick kiss she

diabolically placed there from

those months ago when she left.

 

No other mark or memory remains but

that red mark I dare not kiss fearful

of the smearing destruction that

all would be forever lost from

those months ago when she left.

 

Damn you mirror memory holder to

demand my jealous response for

having received that last warm

affection denied me from

those months ago when she left.