By Gala
Date: 11 April 2001
Saturday Will Come
I've started the countdown in my heart,
making lists of what needs done,
she's taking her sweet time---
but Saturday will come.
She's window shopping, the bitch
la-dee-dahing around
and in the meantime my heart
is beating double time
and I dare not steal even one moment
respite in your arms.
I need a mental health day
leaning against your chest,
chin tucked against your shoulder
need to feel your fingers
in my hair
and all of this will come Saturday---
if she ever gets off her fat keister,
puts down the godammned remote,
stops stuffing bon bons down her throat,
and gets to where she's wanted.
Saturday?
You are needed. Now.
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