Risveglio (Aubade)

Fiction novel hangover,  interverse traveler stubble,
early in the morning he fills his mug with neglect.
Through the patio door he sees the horrors of
past generations marching down on parade—
but those can wait for another day when
insurrectionist monks run away with the
world's available quantities of Earl Gray.

So what will it be today?  

Shakespearean swag, battle armor for love,
silk gloves to the slaughter or
tripping over his euphemistic self?

"There is always reverse metamorphosis."
He says.
From adult to pupa, from pupa to larva
from larva to egg.
Because eggs can't write themselves sick all night
neither they have aching trigeminal nerves;
although, they certainly don't understand the concept
of life and death.

Life comes out the shower with a towel wrapped
around her head. Walks to him, lightly pats his shoulder
and says: "It's OK."