“Wild flowers, they keep living
while they’re just standing still.”
    —P!nk, Cover Me In Sunshine

I think I thought if I just hold still, my life
will catch back up to me and all the missing links
will slide like so mang bangles down a thin
and delicate arm. And so I held, for a year
or more. And I waited for the love of my life
to realize his place in all this and catch on up
to me, catch on up. I waited on couches,
hot and forthcoming. I waited next to walls,
as they held rooms in which I stared blindly.
I waited near the rain, it dripping at various
speeds. I waited in my car, in my clothes for any
light to change. I waited at the ocean, I waited
in the redwoods, I waited at the river,
the gardens, the hills of my campus. I even
waited as I cried, hot blind tears at various
speeds, their wild hues iridescent and alive,
as they danced alone in every type of light.