it is the pinning
the sweet anticipation
one more word will solve the
silence that grows between us

i am sure you think of me during
these hours, at least as little as i try
to think of you in your absence

it is the pinning
that pushes me away, every word
i reply with some impatience
(disdain)

and i wonder if you feel the same
for me as i feel for him

when his words fall on my lap
and i wonder why him
and not you