In the Waiting
There's an echo in the crackling of the fireplace
Evanescent sparks scatter the room
I sit with biding eyes affixed to the flame
There's a coldness still
that penetrates the air and fills my lungs
I choke on it, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth
No words come out my belly ablaze
Just a quiet shiver between rattling teeth
I cling to the warmth of a coffee mug
gifted to me by my mother
Her words still afresh in my wandering mind
"Quit picking your wounds if you want them to heal"
But my hands are anxious and I needed something to feel
The sun peaks through my window pane
Slowly rising to give her kiss
As if to ease my pain
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