Surrender by simon sylvester

The first ever morning after
simon sylvester

On a kitchen chair,
she drinks tea, puts on lipstick.

This is how demigods
sit on kitchen chairs this
is what a muse looks like
the morning after, relaxed
in leather jackets
and
cut off shorts, yesterday’s vests and
a cigarette burns in her mouth the
scarlet
smashed against her skin.

The shorts were discarded
kicked away onto the carpet
firm tan legs wrapped
around my hips
bone to bone, lips to
lips, eyeliner, dream lover,
we ground against each other.

Her sweat is my sweat
beaded and boiled
her cotton knickers
still sticky and soiled
in my bag I
rub them
between my little fingers
unseen in the bag she
wears a pair of mine instead we
are the same size we
shared the same bed
our lips stained
the same cigarette,
our lipstick grease on lips and legs,
drunken, I begged, she licked,
her tongue darts out
kitten pink
that sunrise fractured in the wine
beside my bed
her one hand, squeezing hold of both of mine
the other, short with painted nails,
forced between my parted legs.

Stop don’t
stop come
forever don’t
stop her
tongue slips between lips
salty and sweaty and
I fall in love as she leaves me forever on my first ever morning after.