After
by Daniel Sluman
The devil quickstepsin my head this morning,
my nostrils stuffed with coke,
balls aching regret.
This is the part
where you scrunch
your eyes, ask why.
Let me say it
without saying it;
her arsehole was a rose
& we did not cuddle.
Nine Arches Press: http://www.ninearchespress.com/
