It was dark, saint, and I was so cold.
You were five minutes, ten minutes late,
I buried my hands in every warm fold,
And wriggled, and shivered to wait.
The streetlamp orange flickered dim,
My breath drew out smoky in air,
And all I could think of was you and him,
And the cold, and the way you don’t care.
Twenty went past and I knew that
my fingers and thoughts had gone numb,
But still, I waited, freezing, and sat,
It was forever and you didn’t come.
2006-12-07
09:27:58
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7 answers
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asked by
lady_s_hazy
3
in
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