Some Mornings

some mornings
are best kept to myself

I wake with
eyes sticking

zzzzzzzzzzzzz sunset through window darkan empty wine glass
beside a bottle
of sleeping pills

the silence is
a velvet glove
tracing the outline
of bed sheets
creased into skin

the rising sun
is blocked out
by dark curtain
leaking only the
hint of sunlight

some mornings
are gentle, slow,
and offer the sweetness
of solitude

these mornings
belong to me