She took upon herself
To make a long dress
Out of the fine strings of waiting
Dyed with colors of endless
longing
She stitched it herself with
morning sunlight
Knowing that I love to see her
Precisely in the morning
When the light coming in from the
window
Falls on her coiling curls
And become black
As the reminder of our last night
She wears this dress everyday
Waiting with honor
Opening the door at every sound
Expecting me to be there
Like a promise of the full moon
On a very dark cold night
But I don’t know about her waiting
Or about her beautiful dress
Or the painful longing she turned
herself into
All I know is what she told me
When I was leaving her last time
In tears and in pain
“I’ll wait for you if you promise
You’ll not come back until
You have our future in your
pocket
Instead of poems about
What would it be like to live
together.”
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