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2006-01-21 - 11:39 p.m.


I went to bed early, tired
of waiting for her to come.
Undressing slowly,
looking at the clock,
waiting for her to come home.
Maybe if I take five minutes
to take off my shirt,
ten for my socks,
and thirteen for my pants,
she will be in the doorway
before I slip between the sheets.
She is not. She is at work,
caught up in some meeting,
finishing up paper work.
On the ceiling headlights
chase from corner to corner.
People pulling in, slamming doors,
walking into apartments
that aren't ours.
I want to wait up for her
stay awake until she stumbles in
quietly with her jacket off,
shoes left by the front door,
lit softly by the moon.
She will stretch, lifting her arms,
letting out a soft sigh,
and watch me in the bed.
But I will fall asleep
before she does.

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