I see another sunset
and it’s beautiful.
Magnificent.
There will be
another one tomorrow
which I won’t see
probably.
But I assume
it will be just as glorious.
There’s a stain
on my shirt
and I can’t remember
who put it there
but I think she
defiled
more than laundry
under another
setting sun.
My hands are dusty
from the balcony
as the azure
meets vermilion
for it’s daily fuck
and I don't even feel dirty.
The crepuscular shower
invites the darkness
as my phone blinks
another stain
on my view.
I slide the door
and close
the world
to enter
another
and seize
the night
before aurora
promises more
than she can
ever deliver
again.
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