Unshaven

french music and a joint:
ain't it poetic?
to be me, in a plain white tee
and boy's boxer briefs-
somehow I feel sexy now
in this hazy room
stunk, with love made and
the wreaking of
todo lists undone
my unshaven legs
against the back of
an oversized arm chair
in my underwear
with my hair sweeping
in the wreckage,
that spilled at our feet
the night you had to leave,
and I'm screaming
the words
to a song I don't understand,
but feel
because, she's singing
to me, and I believe her
inhaleexhale.