if you think this poem is about you
if you think you are the only one
I made this decision about
this last weekend.
Moth to the flame
men surround me
offering hopeful half truths
on the off chance I will bestow
the favor of my incandescent smile
let alone the privilege of my time.
I wait, weaving and unwavering the
tapestry of my hopes, ready for
my Ulysses to come to me
though I haven't met him yet
he is worth the wait
a love for the ages, for our lives,
battling monsters and sirens
on the journey to
He's wearily wondering
if he will ever arrive.
But I am patient.
Confident that I am