The Waiting Game
May. 18, 2007 ] 9:05 p.m.
He is in flight, and I know it.
I am earth-bound, love sprung
Spun from the core

Love poised, a perfect ovum
Penned in by the distance
In speech, I whirl and loop

My thoughts circle and circle
Yet remain pinioned on him
Anticipation curdles all, including he.

For the Smoking Man.
wax ] wane