From where you sit
In the window,
You have a good

View of the street
Even through the
Net curtain, though

You doubt he’ll turn
Up, in fact you’re
Certain. He’s gone

Off before; left
Once for three weeks,
But he came back

Then, but you doubt
We will again.
This time he seemed

So convincing;
His words were so
**** right rude and

Offensive, the
Blue eyes of him
Almost burnt you

Through. But you sit
Anyway, sit
With arms folded,

Eyes glued, ready
To cry at the
Least thing, big tears

Waiting just on
The eye’s rims like
Held back black rains.

You bite your lips
In turn, peer through
The nets of white,

Feel your *** numb,
Your legs ache, sense
The need to ***,

But you still wait.
The frailty
Of most human

Relations and
Conversations;
Love so fragile,

So dark deep, so
****** shallow,
Not enough to

Keep, but plenty
Enough for your
Sorrow. He’ll be

Back an inner
Voice says, be back
In no time, tail

Between his thighs;
No he won’t some
Other voice cries.

Still you sit and
Watch and wait and
Remember past

*****, promises
And kisses; it’s
Always the best

Times one recalls,
The last kiss and
Hold one misses.