24 hours

It is a sunny, picturesque weekday afternoon,

The music in the air is that of the printer and ringing phones,

On the notification bar of her phone,

A simple sentence in the Subject, Verb, Object structure,

Complete with an exclamation mark, indicative of strong feeling,

“I love you!”

She is supposed to be working but she cannot? Will not?

The night is like that of the Starry night,

A night for shapes to embrace each other on a high balcony,

To see herself as one of those shapes,

As beautiful as the mythological exaggerations of a goddess,

Fitting like a jigsaw piece into the crook of his arm,

Pacified in regal repose…

She adjusts her coat and walks on towards home.

The morning comes dull and drizzling,

The house is clean, the food waiting, her dress his favorite color,

Transfixed by the sound of tires on the gravel outside,

It is there he will get a reply to his text message,

There, as she watches his shape walking towards the door,

Will she see the embers alight in the ashes of longing…?

Which by definition; is a persistent, often wistful or melancholy desire!

Black Widow

2 thoughts on “24 hours

  1. Good poetry has pitched a tent in your camp. This is my definition of “more than word colour”. I could feel what she felt and it was breath-taking and beautiful and scary and… My own embers glowed in the dark.

    Like

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