aftertaste

the morning light

creeps into my bedroom

spreading honey

across the dark room

I can see it,

there on the other side

far away from my touch

as I,

drown in a sea of blankets,

the pillow

dipped under the

heavy weight of my mind,

the mattress

sinking inwards

under the heavy weight of

my mind and body

with no anchor to keep me afloat,

no boat to take me to the shore,

to the other side

dripping with sweet honey

the absense of your presense,

a taste of sea water

a salty, bitter aftertaste

after a quench of water.