It was a late night in a quiet city,
the winter-breeze dancing around the façade of our house
which was enlightened by the mellow moon-shine
and covered in freshly fallen snow.
the candle-light flickered upon the silverware and wine glasses,
until the candles burned out;
and the light diminished upon a table full of things you loved to eat.
sitting on the couch you had bought for us,
wearing the dress you loved,
all black upon my pale skin;
my eyes fixed on the clock,
my ears listening to the silence that seemed so violent within this small house,
my hands pressed upon my thighs,
agressively; in order to stay awake.
you said you would be there,
as you did so often;
and when you could not make it,
you laughed, charmingly;
sometimes we make mistakes
you would say and kiss me on my forehead
and I would laugh, too;
the table still arranged,
it is alright, love.
but you did not come
until the first sun-rays shone through the curtains,
you laughed, and kissed me on my forehead,
the dress still upon my pale skin,
I laughed, too,
I had waited
Jehona Thaqi© (my drawing of Nera Z., you can follow her on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nera.z/ )