time would never end for those with one-sided love
the hollow instep of my foot like a perfect
gutter for my other ankle
We die in silent submission
to shut lips, wronged sentiments,
angelic disregard, gruff asides, and
that perceivd gaping vacuum
--hugging myself again--
in truth, to
lack of static on physical touch . . .
undemonstrative, controlled, sober.
Sigh.
Gypsy affection pimping little heart pangs
to anyone with a smile and a certain
amount of chemistry.
Shift shoulders against the window frame.
How long can I wait?
Legs curled under me,
thoughts in the breeze across the street,
eyes locked among the trees,
thinking of you, carefully.
How long can I stand to wait this out?