On Stand-by

He walks out, without a word

But still, he lingers;

I sit there waiting.

 

Leaving me feeling, impure

Yet, I look forward to this feeling,

it’s like a spark ignited out of thin air.

 

Wishfully thinking that, it’ll last.

But every night, he leaves, without a word,

I listen to the door close,

And I wait.

 

I sit in bed, and I’m still waiting,

For I know that he’ll return.

 

And I wait.

 

Days drift by, and the spark

is slowly growing faint.

Extinguished in it’s prime.

 

And I wait.

©2017 Kristen Deukett.  Your Abditory Blog

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