Waiting, 1998

You’re standing in the doorway

and

I can hear you breathing.

I keep my back to you

knowing what’s coming.

The end of your cigarette glows

as you inhale

exhale

you toss it to the floor

and I hear the shuffling of feet.

I feel your breath on my neck

steamy hot

branding a kiss onto my skin.

I wanted this,

I know.

I ached for so long

and finally

your touch.

I created my hell-

I see your picture daily

as I close my eyes to sleep.

And now once is all it has taken-

you don’t have to ask anymore.

I hear the flick of the lighter

as you turn back toward the door.

I retie the apron on my waist

and wait for tomorrow.