Kiss It Off Me

Allison Marie Conway

I wake up late because last night we got into the gin, though it wasn’t the gin so much as the conversation which blossomed forth. Juniper and trading secrets. Palms against flesh and kisses that somehow quench as they leave you thirsty for more. There is an effortlessness about you I wish I could inhabit. Crawl inside, live inside, never leave behind. I know you think I could do it but don’t on purpose, as if flicking off a switch. I promise you that if it were so easy I’d have done it decades ago.

In the dimness of morning haze, I pour my coffee and stare out the window into the garden. In the darkness, I can just make out the white cuts of feather on a single blue jay which is perched upon the handcrafted bench, facing the roses. Its long pointed tail stretches itself all the way…

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