Tuesday, January 29, 2019

january love.



some mornings, I am quiet 
snow cascading over the 
ramen noodles
the kid smashed on 
the back deck

I am the chipped 
mug full of creamy coffee 
held in two hands while 
I speak in cat voice to the 
only creatures who don’t 
roll their eyes when I 
am a hot mess

most nights I am 
whiskey sliding down your
throat, smoke in your eyes, a wild
tiger lily waiting to be plucked, the
queen of cups, devoted
like an addict


© 1.29.2019 heather brager



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