i long to write an aubade

to your quiescent silhouette

that is ever so ephimeral

for it fades with the blink

of my ever so tearful eyes

so i can keep nothing but

your absence inside it,

my empty coat pocket

i close my eyes like always

and i see you lying amidst

all the pillows and sunshine

with a billet-doux crumpled

in the caress of your fingers

such like i can't really decide

what is more fragile,

the billet-doux that holds

my name scribbled on the seal

or you, oh mon chérie...

why am i so afraid to open

my ever so tearful eyes

after i have a glimpse of it,

all that has ever been

and all that is never to be..

again?

and if i really open my eyes

this time, just this time,

i wonder if you'd be lying

amid the pillows and sunshine

with a billet-doux crumpled

in the caress of your fingers,

a billet-doux that holds it,

my name scribbled on the seal

and your euphonious laugh

.

.

once again?

Author's Note