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.