Member Poem

I am lying on my bed waiting,
for the morse code of your initials to buzz,
for you to light up my phone again.
how can my heart be so full, so fast,
when you are not even here beside me?

I am waiting for you to arrive at my door,
trying to put away dishes, and failing,
more jittery than I’ve ever been.
your footsteps clunk up my terrible stairs,
and I fly to the door, to your arms, to you.

we are shy, at first, talking plants and constellations,
and you give me care instructions for the african violet in your hands
as I take your beautiful, enormous star pillow to my room.
you hand me the bracelet of balloons you needlepointed for me,
because I am your hot-air balloon; you smile, and I float away.

we are in my kitchen, laughing about height differences,
kissing anyway, and you triumphantly put on your highest heels,
only to still be four inches shorter, and we laugh, and hold each other.
later, I put on my highest heels, as you stand barefoot, grinning up at me,
and I tower above you, smiling, and unsure I’ll be able to stop.

we are hiding in the bathroom, laughing so hard we can’t breathe,
because we knew they’d be coming over soon and we should have gotten ready,
but neither of us wanted to leave the couch, or each other.
I forgot, though, that they have a key, and can catch us off-guard even with a warning text,
and we run to the bathroom to fix our tangled hair, and exchange one last, hurried kiss.

we are back to back on my rose-patterned sheets,
ignoring the sun as it peeks through the blinds,
tangling our legs together and lazing about.
you have the quilt pulled over your head, and my heart swells,
and I simply must hold you, right there, right then, so I do.

I am holding you so tightly, breathing in the scent of your hair,
and I know you have school and work and life to get back to,
but I don’t even want to let you go.
I walk you to your car, though, and wait on the sidewalk in the cold,
just to wave goodbye one more time, and blow you a kiss as you drive away.

I am lying on my bed waiting,
for the morse code of your initials to buzz,
for you to light up my life again.
why is my bed so empty, so cold,
when you are no longer here beside me?