Aubade
-for e.b.s.
The sunlight comes through the curtains
You ask what time it is
Your back is to me
You face the wall
What time is it?
There isn’t time
Soon. However,
you roll over, kiss me
You do all sorts of things:
bring water with lemon, black coffee, a SPAM and cheese omelette
I watch your back arch to the sun,
us waiting for me to decide when to leave
I love you, you’re here again—-
moving, but here, welcoming my love once again
Please don’t shatter it
Walk me out instead of just to the door
I am not perfect; this is not perfect—-
has not and will never be—-but please stay a friend
I love you
3 thoughts on "Aubade"
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Goodbyes
have their own way
of talking
Thanks for your poems this month, hunter! I’ve enjoyed reading them.
So tender a poem