Aubade for my old lovers

do you remember waking?

sweet thing do you

think of our limbs, tangled

our words stilted, our eyes

dusty with the damp breath

of the morning which destroyed us?

there was only one teabag and

dutifully, you received it

on a small saucer with my heart as a biscuit

do you remember dividing

the milk from the tea

casual and honest until

only black water remained?

“Drink,” you told me, and I did.

do you remember the sunlight

covering our skin like vinegar

the moment too sour to swallow?

I think I left without waking you,

my dear

your dreams at least, were uninterrupted