Please come late

Please come late.
so that I have almost given you up
and have started glancing around the room,
thinking everyone is you.
Please don't come
until I have started missing you,
thinking I will never see you again,
praying you are lost.
Come too late for me not to notice.
Make me suffer,
wondering what you are doing
on the other side of town,
still in your dressing gown.
make me beg for mercy
when you pick up a magazine.

Are you looking in your mirror,
suddenly remembering me?
I'm on my second coffee by now,
eating the little bits of sugar in my cup.
Haven't you even set out yet?
I decide I don't want to see you after all.
I don't really like you.
I'd rather be on my own.
I know it is all over between us,
but I go on sitting here,
reading a newspaper,
not understanding a word.
If you came in now, I wouldn't recognize you.
Don't come anywhere near me
until I have gone slightly mad for love of you.

-Hugo Williams

tonight I'm on fire

It's restlessness. An itch that forgets for a few seconds then returns with more friends.
It's heat. Feeling unable to feel any comfort from a cold pillow, just warmth, another seat by a burning wood fire.
It's loud. Every turn of your head brings a crashing of hair cascading around your ears.
It's the lack of peace. Fingers spasming for a grip of a forlorn lover.
It's an empty pit. Endless wandering.
It's one night of several, stretched on until the next.
It's being awake until a beautiful memory plants its kiss of dreams.