Impostor

I look up aubade while reading through a body

of poems, knowing it means something like a song,

something like a too-warm cheek finding the cool side of the pillow

—but are there rules to this unspooling tension?

Atop my search bar rests a row of ads for balconette bras

on headless models with clavicles visible. Below their periwinkle,

lavender, blush haze, the definition:

yes, love, yes, morning, yes, the breaking of the day.