aubade
dawn’s dog mouth already yawns
to reveal its pink anatomy,
the river lolling its wet tongue
light pools on the floorboards,
licks at the legs of a chair,
finds my dress hanging there
it’s time to play
the lovers who will strut
through separate rooms
as the day commits
to its terms and conditions
you hold me as though the doorstep
were a cliff-edge
light-headed,
I wade through this air
clear as cold water
we know the body is a bad historian
and we suck
the marrow of this moment
pressed to the wall,
we lick our delicious wound
outside, a bus coughs the day back into life
i never meant to leave
a trail of pebbles
back to you
and I so don’t
and here you are
saying this was beautiful you
are beautiful
tracing
my shadow on the wall
with red lipstick
5 thoughts on "aubade"
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Love “we know the body is a bad historian”
Sensuous poem! Lots of beautiful phrasemaking as Shaun notes.
Had me here: “dawn’s dog mouth already yawns/to reveal its pink anatomy,/the river lolling its wet tongue”
Great imagery here!
Love all the small details – the light licking the chair and finding your dress “hanging there” or the day committing to “its terms and conditions.”
we know the body is a bad historian
and we suck – great line break here!
the marrow of this moment