Sometime never around around the corner, with Bukowski's eyes and satin skin,
She waits.
She ruminates the fierceness she will make someone endure while waiting.
Fierceness that only shows it's true nature after safety has been suggested.
Suggestions that come freely, not when asked.
Questions that lie when posed before the wrong ears.
Illumination is only the first letter of a word used falsely to spread truth.
Honesty comes at the bottom of the whiskey bottle, lonely and hurt.
Soon, the nature of her honesty will no longer wait for any other to acknowledge it, but instead, adopt a life of it's own.
Soon.
Soon.