If you would, take me out of this place,
let me respond to some innate feeling,
that you might recognize the pain I face
while waiting, simply standing, waiting.
My groan is real though less than audible,
would rather the eyes cast shadows
elsewhere than on my own kitchen table.
I’d respond to a quiet, as humility knows.
If you can, touch my heart with a presence,
a peace, an allure of resonate intrigue,
tells me your one advance allows my sense
opportunity to play elegance outside my league.
I am as much the universe as time travel permits
whereby coming to terms does cause me fits.