Allow yourself this one day
hungover from love. To sit in your sad cocoon
bed-lain on lemon bon bon sheets and sick with ache,
cuddling your bones. Let the day roll into night.
Do not fret about the red numbers in your account,
about deadlines and business worries; pick up three
books and do not read them. Wallow in coffee,
or simply nothing, as you tap-tap through Twitter feeds
and text messages and nonsense mad thoughts.
Let yourself reek with the unwash of sleep-sweats
and salt tears. Eat the mirror on your wall.
Play the unhappy songs that in bed you kissed,
had sex, made love to, that time, when sex became
heart-bare: skintouched, and those eyes.
Tomorrow you can sit in the warmth of a bath
clean your nails, pluck your brow, shave the fluff;
eat, drink, clean your room of your last meals
and bed-locked naked picnics. Tomorrow you can sail
in fresh linen and clothes, listen to happy songs
with no meaning but pop-tones, through a new day;
today is today, this day, my love.
* Max Wallis, 21, has already made a mark on poetry. This poem is featured in his debut pamphlet, Modern Love, published by flipped eye. It serves as an unflinchingly honest exploration of what love is.
* Agnesbicis from Tuscany and now lives and works in London. After graduating from Westminster University, she has been working as a freelance illustrator for various magazines & design agencies. She is inspired by nature, travels and everyday life.