Morning tenderly swipes all the thoughts Some clothes are off, Keys are lying on laptop’s keyboard And words are coming out like cough. That skinny spine is dancing note Of how the monday can be kind and tough. Without a pen but spot by spot Connecting birthmarks, kissing bones And biting fingers just to make lips wider (Smiling little island of a childish hope). Even if emotions are unreal For both it really helps to cope with anything that left behind the door With works and sneezing breath of city smoke. Which cared about her lords When jeans were talking on the dusty floor And zippers chewed the air of bodies free (and even more). So now it’s locked and morning dream is faded With the skinny dancing spine and smell of rope.