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.
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