Staying in bed

 

What I Really Wanted for Breakfast

 

 

 

The damp, warmly tropical smell

Of the wisteria vine planted Thursday,

Passed earlier today,

Scent like a Venus Fly Trap,

Capturing practicality,

Tossing it out of mind.

Bringing images of dim,

early morning bodies,

Damp and tangled sheets,

Inner hip skin and

The taste of salt.

Otherwise I’d have been fine,

But for that vine.

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