I am an enigma
In a mirror
I see strange baleful eyes
a futile chase
Morning dear,
would you like breakfast in bed
If its not a bother, sweetheart
No bother
No bother...
she's lost as I
Our eyes meet,
spectators again of hidden selves -
misery, boredom, disdain
lay beneath bacon strips and freshly squeezed OJ
No bother, she mutters again
I am an enigma to her.
One morning she will awake next to me -
cold, unmoved
waiting for breakfast and an infernal embrace.