Post-coital Aegis
He's out of town again
Another strange hotel
Laying on a new to him bed
That doesn't have his imprint from old dreams
She waits at home
Always waiting for something
Always worried about those new beds
She takes a sponge bath on those mornings
Keeping a patch of skin he touched from the soap
so a trace of him isn't completely washed away
And she waits
And she worries
Until he comes home
She never drinks all the coffee he made before he left.
Adds new grounds on top of old ones
brews a desperate blend
mixing what was left with what will be
And she waits
And she worries
Until he comes home
In the evening he will call
And they will talk about the somedays.
Someday she will have no babies to take care of
and she can go with him
Someday he can retire
and they will never sleep alone
And she waits
And she worries
Until he comes home
She sleeps on his side of the bed
Before sleeping, opens his closet door
just enough so that the light inside comes on
Letting the light spilling out be a candle in the window
And then she sleeps on the imprint of his old dreams
And she waits
And she worries
Until he comes home
Annie Miller
7am June 13, 2005
