Someone is whispering
Someone, somewhere is whispering,
blue thoughts to the sharpened night,
leaving words born of the bottle
to shrivel under sleep’s new weight.
Thin syllables drip from bitten lips
moist with gin and clumsy kisses,
and a tongue lolls, slug-like, slurring,
while only the sliced moon listens
to the promises and prayers the night
drags from that full, unguarded heart.
There! Someone is whispering
and your new, cold day has yet to start.
Jason Jackson writes short fiction and poetry. He also takes photographs. In a busy life he hopes to get better at all three. Find links to his published work at jjfiction.wordpress.com. Jason tweets @jj_fiction.