Hangover

Gray skies

like my father’s overcoat

with only spider streaks of sunlight.

My capricious mirror shows me old,

bulging with last night’s drink.

Louie the cat stares patiently

at her empty bowl.

There is nothing to give her.

A hollow pain repeats itself

as I dress in faded clothes.

I search for something of you

to wrap around me, to smell you.

I stare emptily at the cat

and the empty bowl.