A Morning Routine

He awoke from a terrible dream

Skin flecked away like paint chips

Sinking between the floorboards

Ruby red kisses left behind.

Brushing his teeth mostly

To ensure they’re still

Inside his head where he saw them last.

In his bed

The Lament for Icarus has begun

So wide and kind

The feeling of lift

Remembrance

A guest forgotten

Sunk in the night’s wake

And he knows he will have to take him

Uptown and maybe east

They shared a bed, after all

Reciprocity for holy men

He looks up at the ceiling wondering

If his mother can see what he has done or

Was her vision blocked

By the neighbors and the noise upstairs.