It waits

crack a whisper through the gaps
of your fisted silence, 

let the tears spill down
your thin pressed lips, soften
your hands clasped
around locked knees

I am losing hope here,
my fingers don’t reach you
and your smiling face—
looks painful.

Love, drop the bottle of polish,
already spilling to the side

The night whispers for you,
waiting to spring into 

..violets ..violets and violets.

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