I Feel Such Weight In Waiting

She perches ‘pon the windowsill, 

As I stand below, 

My throat hoarse,

And my heart heavy, 

From bellowing, 

And threading circles, 

In her sand. 

I have told her, 

Many times, 

That time is never final, 

Her threat can be returned. 

Coarse shrieks and capitulations, 

Wavering on the brink, 

For three weeks now, 

Spread like melting butter, 

She has faded, 

She’s just feeding, 

‘Pon depleting saturation. 

Let it come. 

It’s going to come, 

She will twist, 

And topple on top of me, 

Like a tonne of bricks. 

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