By Erik Kay
"In the morning I wake to find a bubble bath waiting--
Eucalyptus scent seeps from the bathroom,
A coffee waits politely upon the bath mat,
Incense burns on the window sill,
The fragrant smoke wisping about dingy white tiles.
Guilt comes suddenly and I am reminded of the morning after a good drunk--
Eyes bleary, body trembling, face flushed red.
What seemed right the night before comes into focus,
Drunken revelry reveals itself to be foolish, childish, embarrassing.
Last night’s fight comes into focus: foolish, childish, embarrassing.
The bath’s too hot so I drain my coffee and go for another.
By the keurig I feel coffee grounds under my feet.
I can see what happened and my heart breaks:
You, flustered and sad, reeling from the night before,
Rushing to make me coffee so that I might wake to a nice morning,
Spilling the grounds, frantically trying to vacuum--
The bath’s still too hot so I sit to write about the morning after a fight.
I think, It reminds me of when I used to drink and had guilty hangovers.
I think, I break my own heart a little each time.
I think, I better go check on the bath."
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