There's a lonely French horn on my heart
The curl of its handle is our story
Hours by the door, slumped like in the flickering Xanax commercials on the screen I haven't sunk into
For days
I can't let myself ask the one question
Instead, I wait for the knock that will bring you to me
As if just that one rap will fill your arms with the roses I imagine
There is something profound in the sunlight that streams into this room
I thought I spoke to you yesterday
We laughed; the deep corners of your eyes crinkled like they always do
And you accepted my kisses as I showered them on you, gently and eagerly
There was our quiet joy as we realized the picture we made, holding hands on my bedspread
As if we were two people really in love.