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Feb 2015
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

I want to be the fork
You pick your eggs with
My metallic spine
In your slight fingers
Your demureΒ Β 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

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

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.
Written by
Alessander  Los Fucking Angeles
(Los Fucking Angeles)   
       Jack, Francie Lynch, Jaimi M, ---, --- and 5 others
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