![\"\"](\"http:\/\/ink-sweat-and-tears.blogharbor.com\/HelenIvory\/Max3.jpg\")
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Allow yourself this one day<\/span> Allow yourself this one dayhungover from love. To sit in your sad cocoonbed-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 threebooks and do not read them. Wallow in coffee,or simply […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7,9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-308","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry","category-word-image"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/308","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=308"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/308\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1861,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/308\/revisions\/1861"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=308"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=308"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=308"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
hungover from love. To sit in your sad cocoon<\/span>
bed-lain on lemon bon bon sheets and sick with ache,<\/span>
cuddling your bones. Let the day roll into night.<\/span>
Do not fret about the red numbers in your account,<\/span>
about deadlines and business worries; pick up three<\/span>
books and do not read them. Wallow in coffee,<\/span>
or simply nothing, as you tap-tap through Twitter feeds<\/span>
and text messages and nonsense mad thoughts.<\/span>
Let yourself reek with the unwash of sleep-sweats<\/span>
and salt tears. Eat the mirror on your wall.<\/span>
Play the unhappy songs that in bed you kissed,<\/span>
had sex, made love to, that time, when sex became<\/span>
heart-bare: skintouched, and those eyes.<\/span>
Tomorrow you can sit in the warmth of a bath<\/span>
clean your nails, pluck your brow, shave the fluff;<\/span>
eat, drink, clean your room of your last meals<\/span>
and bed-locked naked picnics. Tomorrow you can sail<\/span>
in fresh linen and clothes, listen to happy songs<\/span>
with no meaning but pop-tones, through a new day;<\/span>
today is today, this day, my love.<\/span>
* Max Wallis<\/span>, 21, \u00a0has already made a mark on poetry. This poem is<\/span> featured in his debut pamphlet, <\/span>Modern Love<\/a>, published by flipped eye.<\/span> It serves as an unflinchingly honest exploration of what love is.<\/span>
* Agnesbic<\/a><\/span>is from Tuscany and now lives<\/span> and works in London.\u00a0After graduating from Westminster<\/span> University, she has been working as a freelance illustrator for various<\/span> magazines & design agencies.\u00a0She is inspired by nature, travels and<\/span> everyday life.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"