Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Waiting Games

You are bright as sunlight,

perfect in my eyeline,

reflected halo around your soft hair,

in a maze of mirrors,

truth told on hopeful glass.

You kiss me softly,

as I watch so many memories of us,

that have yet to happen,

far in front of my eyes,

I stare,

intently,

as if it will bring them closer,

intently,

impatient,

because though I know that waiting is half the game,

I don’t have the patience to play.

I don’t want to play you,

but I have to,

because the truth is too real,

and I don’t want you to feel captured,

so I follow directions that come from my dearest heart,

finding the patience to play,

finding a new version of the truth,

that makes you feel safe enough,

not to run,

but not to wander either.

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