You are on your way to where I wait,

The train carrying you pressing

against the earth with its solid weight,

As I will later, after our undressing,

Press myself against your landscape.

You are coming soon, arriving here

where I stall, not quite believing the gift

You bestow: your love, your touch, so near.

I know your face and your touch will lift

Me into a new place, a new escape.

Though now, I simply hold. Hold myself in readiness,

Overcome with excitement, fear and longing.

Thinking of how I will hold you, how you are dressed.

Of you coming to my arms, of our belonging.

My lips finding your flesh at last, biting your nape.

Sometimes, the waiting is all I need, the thought

Of you in some future, when you are close.

In all I am, in all I do, I am caught

By your beauty, your self, the way you pose

Without thinking, your body shaping itself to me.

I am waiting, do not be too long, do not come too soon.