She’s coming home

Yes, she sees your arms open wide.
Still, she can’t know
what to do with her bluesy heart.

You waiting there,
she hears you tell
“I will always love you”.
A promise of candle light dinner,
dancing shadows on the wall.

I only see an image
painted in your head.
The candle light flicker in your eyes.
The vase of flowers wilting,
I, an author in disguise.

Poetry

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