- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Aubade
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The mattress shifts and I awake.
The bedside clock reads nearly four,
A beastly hour for his escape.
My languor now begins to sour
As he pads softly 'round the room
Collecting clothes, his belt and watch,
The evidence he's been here, strewn
So hastily before that clutch
We consummated this night past.
I'm waiting for his final kiss
But then I hear the front door latch
And realize I won't be missed.
Another night, another pain,
Another heartbreak (or one feigned).
- COMMENTS
42Below26 days agoAubade Sydney Australia
I closed the door ever so faintly
only to hear it roar open
“you didn't have to leave that way
—you forgot your phone Dick!”
Five fat stars,
Love your work EllenMore.
