Sonja Broderick - Next Morning

Shiver, tremble, crunch
In the lining of my soul.
He hasn’t called,
He’s being cruel.

Sounds everywhere…
I jump to answer.
They laugh at me
From the crannies by the door.

By candlelight we mused
I kissed his cheek
He talked in riddles
And loverspeak.

But in the punch of sobriety
No passion, no whimpers
No cries of joy.
Just shivers.

Sonja Broderick

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/next-morning/