She stood waiting.
Waiting as the stars await the suns eventual death.
As the desert awaits that one translucent drop of absolete euphoria.
Her lips cracked open,
A sliver of fragile hope escaping its tremors.
Fluttering away.
She is surrounded by exquisite misery,
Drowning in hysteria.
Day folding into night,
The moon running circles.
She stood waiting,
With the sound of stinging memories reverberating endlessly.
Touch, smell, touch, love.
All catapulting into that final crescendo,
Where all those moments
Flow into the sea of those hauntingly beautiful words,
**I Am Here
I was inspired by this one line-
"The wait is long, my dream of you does not end.”
― Nuala O'Faolain, My Dream of You
