Hangover
The dreary chattel of self-preservation
blinks slowly under a roof of delusion;
a vacancy sign laced with the angst
of neon's persuasion.
Everyone leans a little too far,
toward a mahogany mantle;
suffering the harsh taste of
tomorrow's guilt.
But tonight,
they are free.
Tonight they pour
their love into frosted
glass,
and drown.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
Copyright © James Kelley | Year Posted 2014
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