Her fingers brush my thighs
We are waiting for the second coming
What was the first she asks
Darkness and beasts
I reply
We sit in the cradle of our nightmares
Stony lions
And the revelation of words
Is this the worst thing to happen
Or the best
Depends on the first coming
She whispers
We hold hands
Indignant
There is a wide desert in front of us
This is only a journey
An imagination
Of stars and moon
We must move forward
Foot by foot
How we wish for brighter days
For the coming to arrive
And the wait to be over
We swill syllables around our mouth
Make up words
And sentences
The word
She whispers
All there is is words
Our flesh moulds into one
And we will wait
We will wait.
