You have an essence that I will go and get. As
you think of me, so I do of you, a hanging calm,
not settled yet, I take hold of your fingers, palm,
dance me within a sense of your love at last,
a march in time taken by two, I sit here, wait.
I flounder without guidance at times, no charge
on waiting time, the trees sway in the window,
cold wind seeps through where I ignore, below,
absence like a slap from a kipper, here at large
blips occur, endured but not forgotten, I wait.
My thoughts mirror the patterns on the window,
with my waking breath I extinguish all of my
demons, long, short and of various shades, sly.
The sun sweeps away the rain and cold, so low,
towards a love sublime, towards which I wait.
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