Waiting… Man

It’s getting cold
and lamp posts are no longer quite so fun to lean upon
but I do what I can.
What? No.
I’m not waiting on a lady.
I’m just waiting for my man.

I’ve been here for ten minutes
that feels like hours
as ice giants blow on me
as I stand on this street corner.
He’s never early.
He’s always late.
First thing you learn while you are waiting for a date
is that it will never turn out hasty
when you are waiting for your man.

I wish I had his number
and not just his beeper.
I wish he trusted me enough
to share some intimate details
or at least a sweet taste
of what I want.
He can be so good to me
offering so much.
I wish that he’d become my baby, I think
while I’m waiting for my man.

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