Saturday, October 4, 2008

Waiting

I go about my day, as every day, structured and in charge. Each task set before me a battle I wage on my own. Each hurdle I clear without much thought. Each day much like the last, much like the next, much the same as they have and will be.

Yet void. Missing. Incomplete.

I know you are there. I know you watch. I know you wait in the shadows for something, for me, for you, for time...I don't know.

I know it is not mine to ask. I know it is not mine to question. I know I am simply to go about my day, as every day, structured and in charge.

Yet I long for your touch. Your words. Your eyes. The feeling of your fingers moving towards my neck. Your hands tangled in my hair directing my mouth where you want me to go. Eyes capturing my movements, allowing more or less of what you want to give. I long for these moments with you.

The moments I am in the shower and listen for the sound of the door opening, wondering if you will appear. Nights in the dark, straining for the sound of you approaching. Searching the crowd on the street for your face. The anticipation of when...where...how...if...leaving me on edge.

It is on this edge I go about my day. Every day the same as the one before, much like the day that will come next. Waiting...wondering...anticipating your next move.