Have a good day, he says

Lying asleep beside me
He Doesn't Know How I Feel -
So trustful
Thoughts going round my head
Unbeknownst to him
My mood, irritable.
He forgives me, never lets it worry him
So calm, so sure of our security.

Awake he strokes my back
I do not respond
He leans over and kisses
my morning puffy face
Weight in my chest
'How are you?' he asks,
innocent.
'Fine', I lie.

Making tea,
Waiting for the kettle to boil
No words.
He potters round
Doesn't notice my sleepless face, my anxiety, the grey cloud on my
shoulders, my guilt
How will I tell him?
When?
What?

Kettle boils,
I make the tea
Spill some
'Fuck!' I say, with more vigour and emotion than the situation really
dictates
He looks at me, sharply, suddenly, at last he notices my mood.
But 'Are you alright? Did you burn yourself?'
Always so sweet, so concerned -
It sickens me.
I should say something soon

But how? How do I talk to him?
Where will I find the words?
He will deny the truth, or the sincerity of my words.

He's in the shower,
then out, naked
dressing trustfully before me while I sit on the corner of the bed,
smoking a cigarette, too quickly, and unusual of me in the
morning.

He is talking, about work, about the things he must do today, his
exciting projects coming up

And then he's dressed
Finishing off his cup of tea
Picking up his bag and saying
Goodbye, have a good day
You too I say, receiving his kiss

The door slams and he is gone