Waiting

.

winter is leaving-
with each slant of sun,
another leaf unfurls

our room,
with its faded walls
and melancholy air
seems pale and wan
in the watery light

the flowers
on the nightstand droop,
their heads bowed
under the burden of disappointment

night slowly draws back her dark
that spills
like broken emotions
across the worn floorboards.
in this early light
your brown length seems lighter
as I lay here, watching
the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest

I turn to the window-
in the distance,
a train whistle sounds-
a plaintive cry
like the drawn out soul of a note,
and the moon is a pearl
hiding her soft glow behind
the pink yawn of dawn

you sigh in your sleep-

the cat meows at the door, wanting
to be let out

the tick of the bedside clock
breaks the soft silence

you sigh again,
your warm breath a hush

I still taste our passion,
a pashmina
draped over trembling limbs

last night-

I recall your mouth
at my breast,
your hands like stars
upon my night skin

the heavy need of your body
pressing into mine

the wet slick
of open thighs,

and it's all I can do
to not wake you,
and whisper
into your mouth
my longing

my secret crave

as the tears glisten
like crystal beads
against a pale throat.

.