Waiting
to hear the clock slowly tick in torture
to light a ciggerette I don't want
to call and know there will be no answer
to be jealous and not know of what-of whom
to hear footsteps and believe they are yours
and knowing they are not
to crush the ciggerette I did not want
to call again and hear only a constant ring
to peer through the window into darkness
to hear a car door open and hope
he's hom
he's safe
tears, relief
it's over
untill next time
