She Waits, For Him

She waits.

For him.

For his words.

Three words.

For more than just those three.

For them to come in torrents.

For them to be spoken softly in her ear.

For his lips to kiss the hollow of her neck.

To make her shiver.

To make her feel.

She knows that neither the words or kisses  will materialize.

Still she waits.


Prays to a god she doesn’t believe in.

For him.

For his words.

18 thoughts on “She Waits, For Him

  1. This gave me chills. What a beautiful photograph. I know what’s it’s like to wait for someone – the good and the painful parts. That ardor doesn’t happen often but when it does it’s as though God came for the weekend.

      • It’s true. That intensity feels as if you’ve found paradise. It’s a pity it never lasts. Well it doesn’t. Relationships like that rarely endure. They fly so high they have no place to land so they crash and burn in one way or another. Oh, I sound so tragic. That’s what poetry does to me.

      • It is tragic. But it is beautiful all the same. It’s a feeling I would never want to not feel. That crash and burn is momentous. Even if it hurts us.

      • Same here – like Lance has told me, it’s when I’m “real” that my work really shines. Just wish “real” wouldn’t have to be sad all the time…

        That being said, please stay real. Your writing is worth it!

      • Oh t I will stay as real as possible. As will you. We get each other and our writing. I love that we do. Want to write with you sometime. I think we could think up some good shit. Maybe it’ll be happy.

    • Thanks Michelle. Sometimes the best stuff is written that quickly. I think it strikes a cord in all of us. We’ve all had to wait on a love at one time or another.

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