And daytime is the loss of this
yet should old lovers, constant
lovers have cause to regret
the dawn, the low insistent glow
of a phone alarm? No, although
with the rising from your arms
I must now wear these petty cares
as clothes to cover what in the dark
belonged to you. Have a nice day
we say in the light, all the night
put away in its proper place.
We dissociate from our bodies
fill them with coffee, take for granted
that the shielded heart still beats
that again tonight we might, with the gift
of knowing what the day has cost—
debts held, paid, forgiven—sweep all aside
in returning tide of love, loose-limbed sleep
First line from W. H. Auden’s “This Lunar Beauty” (actually two lines in his poem: And daytime is/the loss of this;). Prompt from Quickly; also an aubade for Yeah Write’s January poetry slam.