I walk through the house
Listlessly
It seems so big somehow
And so empty.
I strain my ears.
Is that your voice I hear?
That laugh that was so typically you.
I close my eyes and I can breathe in the scent of your body,
Feel its warmth surrounding me.
I reach out and can touch you,
Feel the texture of your skin
So achingly familiar.
I open my eyes reluctantly
To find myself alone
As I wait for you
Endlessly.
This post is in response to the Friday reflections prompt of the week: “Sometimes waiting is the hardest thing of all.” – Luanne Rice
