Breakfast

In the morning you rise, night is still in your eyes
Moving warm with content, the memory of your body’s scent
I watch your striptease in reverse, dip my head in your purse
Smiling softly you say, that I could not get much worse
Then scream of the kettle making steam
Reminding you and me, we need a cup of tea
Intimate breakfast scene, with sausage, egg and beans
Weetabix and jam and lightly grilled brown ham
Talking gently and low, I ask you why you must go
Having asked it I know, instead of yes you’ll answer no
Oh no, I’ve got to go back home
My child is all alone, don’t ring me on the phone
My husband will be there, it really isn’t fair
He still belives in trust, I’ve got to catch my bus
Looking through the window pane, watch her leaving me again
Wondering what’s in her head, I slowly sink back to bed
And I feel so empty that I must be dead