Eric Low Soon Liang
Morning, Truce

I rose before you did
in that hazy half-light
between dawn and today.

In an anonymous window
right across the street,
someone else,
intent on cracking an egg

trying to make breakfast and
already, an ambulance

turning cold by the sidewalk.
Paramedics hang around,
squatting by the pavement.
A few coffee addicts
waiting for their shift to end.

A light breeze enters to rearrange your hair.
I closed the windows
as softly as I could,

for you to sleep on it a little more
at least till your eyes dried

Quietly, I cleared the pieces
of a broken something,
and after that, the rest of everything

then returned to the sofa,
pretended to be asleep

so we could all lie a little longer.