Kelly Grace Thomas

For All Those Who Have Been Waiting

to open the champagne, dusty with

patience. To drink the desert.  Bite

the neck of  someone new.  To quit

the  job,  the man,  the lie you swig

from  every  winter.  The  standstill

traffic   of   excuse.   Tomorrow   is

always so hungry. Sometimes, even

your  own  life  forgets  to  call you

back.   The   sun   sets   somewhere

warmer and teal. Maybe the trick is

believing       enough      to      keep

opening—doors,  prayers, avocados,

arms,    and    elevators.      To keep

pushing  the  loud  button  of want,

until     the     future     becomes    a

dance floor beneath your feet.

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