Waiting for Revelation

Waiting For Revelation

Revelation, I’m staring at the front door
waiting for you to come home.

My elbows are digging grooves into the table, Revelation;
drop a needle on them and you can hear the crackle
and hiss of hymns and mantras warped by neglect.

Revelation: my coffee is cold, my cigarette is stale
and my body can’t keep up with the relentless ticking
of the clock.

I wait for you, Revelation, like a parent
waiting for their child who’s gone out for the night
and is still missing hours after their curfew.

I fear that I will never see you again.

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