dawn

something silly and prompted

Unlike the slow and groaning gloaming,
A creeping darling
Moaning morning,
Heavy lashed and lulling
With a shushing fingered longing,
Puts her eyes on, limp and limpid,
And steals through fields of lamb-licked grass.

In the city, roofs are cracking
And the light is soundly whacking
At the windows of the sisters
Sharing bedrooms with their brothers
And sunlight settles on the curtains
Of a girl who is uncertain
Of the boy she’s waking up with
Who is feeling up her arse.

Politeness stops her yawning
On this creeping darling moaning morning.

 

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