My Lips Know No Other

I stand at the window, waiting again to behold thee whose words I thought were loyal to me if hearts could be seen, mine would have been on display at the museum the shattered heart of a silly lover from dawn to dusk, my lips know no other I wait in nothingness, oblivious of the passage of youth alone in this isle, my strength fail me, my body dry of thirst, I am waiting like Odysseus wife for when the wind will go heavy on these witches on broomstick hovering and casting a spell on my lover this lover, the land of my birth, where our heroes past planted and watered in love and honesty to grow day by day, I stand at the window, waiting again to behold the return of the bridegroom.