Waiting for (more?) him,
tapping your fingers to old joy,
you are rhythm and patience
and excitement unheard of.
He comes back but he won't hold you tonight
and I just don't understand why-
Why he's holding your hand before the curtain rises
like it's a cheap, half-empty wineglass;
Why he's holding you just barely and so incompletely;
Why he's holding you like he doesn't know you're going to save him;
Why he isn't holding you as desperately
as recklessly
as I would.
Mahal, it breaks my heart to see yours so unloved.
The only thing I want to say is:
He is too lucky to have you.
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