waiting
I rest better
knowing he was here
and that he’ll come back
you know how a puppy jumps
for joy at reunion with its master?
Though he is not my master,
that’s me,
waiting at the door
all senses armed
ready to explode with joy.
Wanting the moment
when he walks through the door
smiles, and hugs me
like he wants to squeeze me flat.
“Do you think about me as much as I think about you?”
He asked, loosening his hold so I could breathe.
“Probably not,” I lied.
“Savageery,” he said, chuckling.
.
.
A Song for this:
I Can't Help Loving That Man by Björk
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