» 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 « 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

» to wait

i wait
i think that is my problem 

i sit on my bed
i bleed words
i wait for the wounds to heal
i reopen them again
and i wait for someone to notice

i tuck a foot under my leg
wait for them to talk first
fingers flying, heart free
and then we must leave ( all good things do )
i wait for them to come back
they always do

( there is an answer just beyond my grasp
tempting and taunting, twisting and turning
and i reach out, far [ not far enough ]
for it to land in my hand like a bird

when i was young, mom would sit me on her lap
and tell me a story of diving gulls and stars
but the stories i know now are told of monsters 

i do not know what the scroll reads
i will wait to learn and see. )

[ 7.20.21 ]