Words – Waiting for the rains

Words 

My lovers

Unfaithful, maddening lovers

Taunting me with

How sweetly they lay, now lie with another

Weaving immortal magic

Words

My gorgeous tyrants

Locking me up in a prison

That for some reason

I never want to leave

Words

Doors.  Mirrors?

No, doors – I know they are doors

That I know open out

To wondrous things

(Because once they did)

But for which now, I can’t seem to find

The keys

Words

 Once a surge. An ecstatic rush.

Now a trickle. A drought.

 I trace the parched cracks

And I wait.

It will rain.

(It must, must it not?)

Words

Still. Crouching. Surly.

Taut with unleashed lightning.

Waiting for their master

“Not you,” they whisper cruelly.

“Not you. You are just a stable hand

I retreat

And wait

For the rains