Ravioli making heartburn tracks in my chest…
I wait. Like there is anything else to do.
And maybe that’s just it - the waiting, so much, too much of it in what seems like too much of the time.
And I think -
About the urgency, and how on a good day, I would have graced her lips
Perhaps ten times. Stolen her cell phone from the left pocket of her trousers’ where she thinks no one knows it’s kept - her life line to her life but I would have taken the chance to yank it from her and to make her come to visit to get it back.
Meeting in back stairwells, where secrets die from suffocation
I would grab her clean shaven neck
Relishing the rough stubble from a few days fresh cut
Pausing a moment, before lips to lips and hips to hips and breasts to breasts touch-
our tongues, unleashed into enemy territory
As I inhale the scent of her newness to me
And I have one question to ask of inquiry
Just … why has it taken so long for me to find this… that I knew exists…
© 2003 Sandra Jean-Pierre