In the words which I breathe there is longing.
The syntax of sorrow I know too well in my longing.
For me, the constellations above hold no tarot,
Fate changes, a slight of hand, and then there is longing.
The clock perched beside my bed, but it doesn’t yet chirp.
What can end this night? I wait for the alarm to sound, longing.
All day, Billie Holiday plays in the dreariness of our bedroom,
Her mirthless wise voice echoes my longing.
Drawn curtains are a metaphor for not seeing light.
Look! The groundhog has cast a shadow of longing.
My face is a rainbow of feeling, but mostly shades of blue.
An emotional merry - go – round often stopped and longing.
Your kiss could quench the Mojave Desert thirst.
Open wide receive this mouth so parched, so longing.
A cage bird stares through painted bars without a song.
A cat waits in the shadowy distance, longing.
You needed to find yourself without strings attached.
I found myself in an empty house, claustrophobic, longing.
© 2013 Marchell Dyon