silence comes unsuited

I knew he could never stomach
the stillness of morning's
shadow and chamomile tea

his eyes whisper in pretense
carving the sudden shock of
defeat along the outline
of my restless skin

hands lie likewise against
lips I've postured still
unkempt by the hurried brush
of his feint affections

my noiseless fingers trace
the bone worn impositions that
leave brambles between our
spacious sheets

night falls heavily with
the crowd of words that
rage unspeakable behind his
clenched teeth

morning meets me with
the unmistakable silence of
lovers coming undone