The sun has risen over the sucker-punched morning
your shining blue eyes gaze back from the wall
where I stop to pray my greeting to you
and my lips taste the salt of my tears
Birdsong drifts from without this glassed-in cage
some carillon melody in chromatic scale
unheard as I covet the hymn of your voice
and my lips taste the salt of my tears
Coffee brings a tang to the breathless air
bouquet of wakefulness and dreary day
I dream of the scent of your skin and your hair
and my lips taste the salt of my tears
Fingers bleed over pen and stained page
howling mute mournfulness where love reigned
how I hunger to be writing those other words
and my lips taste the salt of my tears
