Need, Joanna Vogel

I am waiting for quiet, for a very specific
kind of hush. I am
waiting for a time when there aren't
any words that I don't
want to hear.
I am waiting for there to be
no words at all –
only eyes; only teeth and lips and
long hair that kicks up everywhere,
swirls like a wild halo of golden leaves
when you drive with all the windows down.
I am waiting for hands.
Specifically, I am waiting for your hands,
for your arms, waiting to be wrapped
in you. I am waiting
for you to forget
everyone else
but me. I am
waiting. I am
waiting…