Patiently

I'll wake up every day to see if you love me, any more,
speak a thousand different languages in words
that rush forth to liquefy my tongue.
I'll never sleep, roam the hours inside hospital walls
looking for the sign that you have taken my flowers
into your room [into your heart]
and that you know I've been the one.

Here I will pace, melting into tiles,
calling on fast food on that old payphone
to keep me from starving in my wait-
though it could never put my heart at peace
like your eyes did.

Don't be frightened, I'd never let go of you
not even if I learned hatred was how
you'd describe my presence;
the sun is still warm when I touch your hand
and your heart is still yours.

May 16, 2012.