Flowers 4

By Mark Olague

This soiled yellowed pillow
archives a thousand anxious sleeps,

stamps a hundred solo orgasms;
As downy anchor against every

ruined night, it buoys a gloomy gaze
towards ceiling, window, feet

while I sink soporific
into briny indecision…

Until boorish day with sunny paw
shakes me and I frown.

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