|Stormy Sky by Alicia Dunavan|
Woke up to the sound of pouring rain,
a bottle of vodka
still lodged in my head.
There’s no comfort in the truth,
full of broken thoughts,
lying naked on the floor.
What a wicked thing to do,
to make me dream of you…
Lines for this cento borrowed from: I Remember You - Skid Row, Bed of Roses - Bon Jovi, Careless Whisper - Wham!, Hurt - Johnny Cash, Torn - Natalie Imbruglia, Wicked Game - Chris Isaak
Written for a prompt over at the Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild (the new incarnation of Poetic Bloomings), asking for poems about the sounds of love.