Breakfast Club

I remember breakfast mornings with you.
Half-offering food as you make my bed like the perfect gentleman.
Singing me morning lullabies in your sultry Southern voice,
Faking sick to avoid our lives beyond each other.
Until sunset put you to sleep,
Hand in the popcorn I’d made you.
Your snoring putting me to sleep like the movies.

But now my empty bed gives me nightmares,
And I find it hard to sleep in silence.
You’re not in your shirt, but neither am I.
And I’m making breakfast for one.