Sun startles the lovers who lie,
Crammed in a single bed.
Once the sun blanketed doves,
Each day a wrap for godlings
And the night was a sea of hope
For the lonely, lost, drowning.
Now the morning is a shroud
That eyes shy away from it,
They look for each other—
Out windows murky into day,
But night never really leaves,
The untouched skin breaking,
The unshared fade of breaths
Untaken, unwound fingers,
Trapped in open rooms
And light revealing,
Cold uncovered,
Lovers in morning.