Waiting for Her Word

I’m self aware and insecure
I’m hanging by a thread
Alone with thoughts and falancies
I’m waiting for her word

The still between us, a sea of silence,
Leaves open too much wonderment
Just a whisper would assauge me so
I’m waiting for her word

The cozy bliss of an embrace
A sight-for-sore-eyes, a lovers gaze
What is missing? A brief exchange
I’m waiting for her word

To summarize her meandering prose,
Or describe her vibrant pose:
Zest for living, wherever she roams
I’m waiting for her word

©2011 John Fontana