Can We Call This an Aubade?

here comes the dawn let’s sleepless watch it rise you know i want to write about the pills the way
you greet the morning with chemicals the way i do as an aubade & yes one of us would need to
leave for an aubade but i think i’m thinking past that point well into the rituals of morning so
maybe not an aubade but i love the word because of l’aube & dawn can be a name mais l’aube
peut seulement être le matin ou un poème if you bade it & i appreciate the succinctness of pills
you know you pronounce pillules with a lull pillull & yes i’m rambling across languages again i
know we could maybe fuck away the dawn but desire lulls like the moon or pills & nothing is
profound or painless at dawn & i don’t mean pills lull desire our bodies are too tangled in
insomnia anyway & besides you hold a pill like the moon on your tongue there one moment
gone the next & then comes the day bright & beautiful like you & yes my pills are in the other
room someday i want an art exhibit where portraits of pills by bedsides flank smiling faces & the
caption asks who are they for & they’re for all the faces & all the faces are couples & can we call
this an aubade if i leave to get my pills & come back with birdsong & painkillers on my tongue i
can put my pills beside your own for the exhibit & l’aube is well passed & you’ve left me here
with pills for your dreams so i’ll call this an aubade & kiss you good morning & goodbye