Work Text:
i drink,
the same tea of each morning
i clean around,
to give some sense to these old bones
and then again
i sit and
wait for you.
i go through
the same movements
every day
to not forget how any
of my muscles work;
i dance with my grief
i sweat it all out
and then i wash up
and move on.
the colors all around me change
as the leaves go through the motions
and the weather cycles;
in the stillness of my heart
i wait for you.
i wait for you
as i walk around
opening the pathways for you;
i wait for you as i work,
as i plant new life in here,
as i build us a home,
as i rebuild myself,
as i sleep,
as i cook, as i eat;
whatever i do,
i do it as i wait,
always wait
for you.
and yet i know you’re here,
kept safe,
right next to my heart;
you’re in the flowers,
overgrown around a statue
that i refuse to look at;
you’re in the deep reds
of the autumn trees,
in everything beautiful
in everything living
fiercely
against the odds
you are.
so i drink my tea,
and think of you
i train,
wishing you were here
i clean,
while talking to myself
as if you were here,
i work the fields,
and people ask me
about why
you’re not here.
you’re everywhere i look
and i love it
even if it hurts
but i’d love it more
if i could tell you,
if i could point
at the butterflies
fluttering around,
at the shape of a cloud,
at the red of a sunset,
and tell you why
it reminds me of you.
so i wait,
and wait,
and wait a bit more,
i know you’ll come back,
and when you do…
when you do,
i’ll come back too,
i’ll be myself again.
so hurry up,
won’t you?