Μη μου τους κυκλους ταρασσε

The mornings I would wake up with a massive headache from the previous night's drinking.
The difficulty of opening my eyes.
The smell of sour sweat and fresh semen on the bed sheets.
Walking barefoot in a yet unexplored house.
Putting my clothes on and looking for my lighter.
Shutting the door.
I remember.
Feeling dirty. Yet free.
And then I remember you - coming out of nowhere.
Locking the door
and making coffee.

I still do you know. Even today.
Wake up sometimes before you do.
But now I've quit smoking.
And I always check the lock.
It's all about remembering. Or not.