I slept in your bed last night.
Searched for coffee
and an accompanying mug
in your kitchen this morning.
Fridge magnets hold wedding invites;
Anna and Nick in Ojai,
Yasmin and Daniel in Toronto.
Postcards from Maroc and Paris?
I've been there too!
The forecast calls for rain
as it does every day in New Orleans
during those months they call summer
when tourists fear to tread.
Two oscillating fans and a window sized AC unit
in your humble coach house flat
— hidden behind a bank of locked gates —
offer little resistance against an oppressive humidity
that makes one's skin glow...day and night
I sip from that found accompanying mug
the one that reads, "Here's lookin' at you kid!
As a grey sky moves through window slats
marking the beginning of a new day.
All I can think of, while embracing your mug is,
I slept in your bed last night
and I don't even know your name
And that it is just another Sunday
in The Big Easy.
— Mark Butkus