there was something unfair about the morning after

freshly showered, I arrived at the breakfast table
I was late
your friend talked loudly with my sister about rugby and I had
to sit on a stool because all the other chairs had been taken
you never looked up from your plate

this was the first time you made me feel
      small and ordinary
like it wouldn't have mattered if it was me or not
that my honest skin and wet hair
displeased
maybe
disappointed you

you,
the boy who usually restored self confidence
kept your eyes on the glass you were asked to pour for me
and never looked at my face
but passed the juice across the table still

I ate in silence in the laughing room
waiting
trying to steal your eyes and share a smile
but you never looked

and by lunch
our flame was out