Bilingual beauty
with her eye on the clock.
Waiting, ever waiting, but
for what? She couldn't
tell you. She can tell you
a lot more, however. She can
speak to you of dreams and fears,
speculate on what's likely
to happen in these days before
the arrival of the
waited upon, which lingers in
shadows she cannot see
through. She'll tell you tales
of frustration, because she's never perceived
in the ways she wishes she would be,
as she thinks she could be. The dirt
around her stains her clothes but never
her skin. She'll spin you stories
of hardship - she's known it, yet still she smiles.
Whatever you have to say to her in return -
she'll listen, take it to heart, though it
may be possible
that she listens too well.
But ask her what it is for which
she waits, she can't say.
Happiness?
And so much more.
