It never left my mind, how I have always wanted to write a poem about the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of the day.

I seem to have always waited. For the right moment. For the feeling. For the very thing that would hold my heart captive. And that, I told myself, I will forever wish.

Quarter past twleve one rainy midnight, I smiled to myself. I have always wanted the poem to be wordy. But I have never thought brevity could be this lovely:

     *You.
     It has always been you.
     And it will always be.