A hundred melodies can create a song
to lull the in-between spaces of
I miss you and I wish you were here.
Writers and artists can find the ways
to fill the silences after IÕm thinking of you.
But I am stuck in your darkness, pleading.
Without color. Without sound. Without word.
DonÕt go. DonÕt go. DonÕt go.
I would compose you a symphony.
IÕd author you a library.
IÕd decorate entire galleries.
IÕd say too much and make you run.
Or not enough at all.
Is that what youÕre waiting for?
A word. A note. A brushstroke.
Any reason to run.
Maybe youÕre waiting for Shakespeare or Van Gogh
to show you how you fit into my every color and verse.
Maybe youÕre stalling in rain puddles
trying to hear the way the strings and percussion sing
to know if it is right
Maybe youÕre waiting to hear me echo back.
In pitch. In phrase. In hue.
ItÕs right. ItÕs right. ItÕs right.
If this is what youÕre waiting for
all of the songs and books and art
in the entire world will say it better.
But never mean it more.
Forgive me for being lost somewhere
in these in-betweens.
Drawing a bow. Drawing a breath. Drawing a heart.
Longing for you to stay.
© H.E. Grahame
Bio: H.E. Grahame is a writer and poet with work featured in Folio, Z Publishing HouseÕs Emerging Poets and Writers series, The BitchinÕ Kitsch, and SLCC Anthology. She is a student at the University of Utah in the Writing and Rhetoric Studies program, minoring in Gender Studies with an A.S. in Psychology from Salt Lake Community College. Additionally, she works as a writing consultant and as a publications coordinator for SLCCÕs Student and Community Writing Centers. She enjoys cooking, travel, photography, music, and words. (www.HEGrahame.weebly.com)