Waiting

me,
here,
sandwiched
between two
doughy doorstops;
hope and fear.

(reason, 
  though spread thin,
    protects me 
      from  
        bleeding my whole heart 
          into 
            either slice of bread)
                                     
            you,
            somewhere
            in uncharted 
            neighbourhood;
            blithe creator of
            indigestible
            food.

Written for The Daily Post #Sandwich

©Jane Paterson Basil

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7 thoughts on “Waiting

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