whispers

He will be
funny, in the unexpected way of
the alcoholic that made me
fall in love
and in the sweet, smart
sardonic way of the boy I love-hated
in grade five;
He will be strong, stable,
like the ex husband that was
my protector, even if
he never understood me
He will be sparks and fire and larger than life
Pyrotechnics like a concert that
Moves me beyond this quotidian
Veiled existence.
He will love me, madonna,
whore,
little child,
lost soul,
pragmatic nerd,
and
whatever lies beneath.

And he is nearly
here.