The Waiting Game, Gabrielle Janae Christ

 

To stack the mugs
and watch as
they drool on each other
steam rising from their forlorn
rims
To walk the shadow
and smile the
smile of a girl
who doesn’t have
a 3 year old suitcase

To carry each dish
with ease
To watch
as rain and dirt
track through
ruining the work
of the bloodshot morning
Eyes aching
A choice to make
To glance at
the hours lost
the hours left
or
To accept the reality
of a Wednesday afternoon

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