The Girl Who Waited
I kissed the side of the moon and I thought too soon that my eyes were dry.
You were an enigma wrapped in comic book pages
Black and white and sauced with splashes of deep, angry green
And sometimes I noticed that your eyes were blue.
I bided time and found seven numbers on a page in a binder that wasn’t mine
And I found excuses and too many uses and wedged through the cables
And into your fascinating life.
When I sewed the eyes onto the back of my head last week
I was surprised to like what I saw, every flaw, every slip I landed poorly
Backstage of center.
And when I heard your words, sometimes absurd but mostly
Good- quotes perfectly quothed and humour perfectly washed
In a dabble of the humble and a pinch of the “I know I’m good”.
I know I drool apologies and I know how well you slip hints
Beneath the radar of peeves you hate petting
And sorry slobber is one of them.
You’ve pulled the most fascinating things out of that hat
Don’t expect me to scat but
I found a crutch. I’m a terrible golfer and I lost the t
Don’t you c? Don’t you SEE?
Got left with a crush and you turn me to mush
Every time you saw ‘wibbly wobbly’, because no one
Says it quite like you.
As a kid I’d suck suckles- the honey kind
And now as I rewind I remember the prick of the
Plant against my lips and it reminds me of you because you hurt
Like. A. Bitch.
I’m a Pollock-a-holic sometimes because I like the mess
Emotions leave when they’re mixed in buckets
And heaved against a blank canvas. Suck it.
And I wish I had balls sometimes because I KNOW
I’d like the feeling of your Toby Maguire hair between my
fingers and my internal Harley Quinn won’t let me
Stop fooling myself.
I fucking love you- and that’s okay because this way
I can know you won’t stay and yet I won’t miss a day
Of respecting the way you ARE.
Reciprocation is also nice but over tea on ice
I still get your full attention.
I’m like the ginger in that show we both like and I’ll
Wait without waiting while your lips, those lips,
Close on the rim of that ceramic cup and I’ll
Midday dream that we’re up against a wall somewhere
Laughing and feeling each other while a drumbeat pounds in our ears
And the frames of you crash by heavily and noisily
And it’s impossible to miss a panel, or an in-color spread of you
That I can fold out piece by piece and guess at what I’m missing.
You excite me, entice me and the ache I feel is less than ideal…
But you’re worth being awake at four in the morning for
Because you don’t BORE me and you aren’t a fucking MORON
And I say NO to the eccentric passivity and NO to the grudge
And NO to losing you…
And every day I know you is a day well spent
You’re not heaven sent, don’t kid yourself and pull that crutch
Our of your ass and take it with you golfing sometime
You get me? I’m not the girl from your dreams I’m right HERE
And you fear me because I’m new and when your glasses were
Askew that night I leveled them for you and you were able to blow out
I’m in the sticking place, boy, and we’ll be two feathers
On the same bird for some time now, so until we both molt
Know it’s not my fault I love you and it’s not your fault you want
The black and white girl
With the lips who the artist dyed red on the cover page.
Let Dick Grayson restore amends and I’ll hold onto your mint conditions
And until everyone turns into rhinoceroses for the last time
And I watch from above as you take to one knee
And I watch where you look when your hair parts from your eyes
And you lift your face to the Fresnel glare and awestruck maws
And the applause draws light into the blues of you
Yes until then and until someone else makes me write a page and a half
Of BULLSHIT on a W.D and laugh at the stroke of midway to hell..
I’ll be the girl who waited.
© Copyright 2016 Espressoyourself. All rights reserved.
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