waiting

i had a dream i was on some tarmac and i was waiting for him to get home and i was watching the faces go by, arms catching outstretched arms, people reaching, people holding. and he didn't come. and i was looking down the line. watching the furthest body, searching every outline. i started to cry walking across that dusty field, never looking away, knowing what i knew. he was somewhere, he would come, it's just that sometimes the waiting feels like it's breaking you right in two.