good morning in the morning

whom do you say good morning to?
the ants that breakfast scramble on your skin ?
the ones you blow off with killing kisses?
books? pulpy and oranged juiced?
the ones you dismissed then picked up when you missed your misses?

the porcelain pot, the old man at the bus stop, the mail man on her short bus
on your run route?

the life you memorized from last night?
awake in that consummating quiet after a breathy good night

whom do you say good morning to?

your old or new born mistake?
the pale color on your morning face
indigo and avocado shaped
hard breath like hard water from lives of lime
honest like only the morning is

whom do you say good morning to miss?
miss me with steep fees
payed in the morning heat,
in sweat from hot night chills
texts ignored nicely

to whom do you say good morning ?

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