It is a wait, a long one
Not nearly anyone wishes
There is no silence
Neither is there a whisper
The stares are into nothing
Time doesn’t make any better
Phone never rings
Or the text arrives ever
No one calls on
Intimacy is not tacit
Hope is nearly persistent
But nothing else is
I don’t know where I stand
And I won’t even, if I try
Bond is coeval with shackle
Can’t get over, can’t get rid
Modern allure it is said
The flair of ghosting
QUOTIDIAN BLESSING 