The weekend drag

A chuckle and a content sigh,

A cut from a bath shave,

Gin with water, Sunday,

Smokers with a sea view,

Bald heads, sweat damp,

A full tattooed arm,

Lipstick stained clothes,

Rattling of the grinder,

Dance moves, sore throats,

Silent walks.

 

At some point in the morning, you touch the hem of your towel and ask,

“Is this all there is to life?”

 

Lazy afternoon chatter,

Orchids on a table,

Scratches from the cat,

In and out, mango sticky rice,

Pauses and stretches,

A dying house plant,

Back pain and chipped nails,

Barefoot on sand.

 

At some point during the afternoon, you touch the hem of your apron and ask,

“Is this all there is to life?”

 

A sonorous moan into the night,

Unresolved grudges and bite marks,

Lucid dreams, a deluge,

A half beaten remote.

Scented candles, promise rings,

Face bracketed with hair strands,

Rising crests while breathing,

Careful hands.

 

At some point through the night, you touch the hem of your blanket and ask,

“Is this all there is to life?”