I want to be the bed covers
You wake to
That your restless limbs
Have smothered
That your emanating body
The fabric
You have tossed-and-turned in
8 hours hence
Imprinted with your scent
And the mouthwash
You gargle
To swoosh-and-splash
Along your tongue
To be in you
Like a liquid ache
Sloshing
Waking
I want to be the fork
You pick your eggs with
My metallic spine
In your slight fingers
Your demure hands
Scarred sustenance
Yolk sun
I want to be the comb
Tangled in your frizzy hair
Your wavy hair of smoke
And shadowed lakes
As soft as lint
Cascading
I want to be the cig
You light on the corner
To warm the brick morning
I want to hang on your quivering lips
Like an autumn leaf from a branch
I want you to inhale me
And let your body loose
Feel me utterly
Then exhale...
Let me evaporate
Into the nothingness
I was before
You
Footnotes: An aubade is a morning love song (as opposed to a serenade, which is in the evening), or a song or poem about lovers separating at dawn.[1] It has also been defined as "a song or instrumental composition concerning, accompanying, or evoking daybreak".[2] - WIKI
It's generally a lament about the morning since dawn means the end of the night, the broken spell for the lovers. Romeo and Juliet perhaps exhibits the most famous "aubade".
However, I decided to write about the morning after.