Late Night Morning

“hmmn,” she purred
head on my knee, eyes
softly rolling to meet mine
as if asking a question

“i’m trying to decide
how
to smoke our last bowl. We could,
I began,
sit on the bathroom floor,
light a candle and
meditate on inward mind-breaths, or

go out
in the car with
open eyes and open ears and see
the crack of doom
racing to meet our lovedrunk
windshield

I don’t know,”
i said, as i looked
back down at her eyes
staring up at mine

but, i think i gave her enough
to consider.

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.

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