Stagnant (poem)

I yearn for an embrace that will never arrive.

A whisper folded into a passing glance.

The shadow of hidden meaning behind words

That I never seem to understand. 

What am I if not patient? 

Fruitless labor can supply only delusion.

But yet, I hold onto the fantasy of commitment 

A longing for a time based in hypotheticals.

I have placed you on top of a self aware pedestal.

You are no Saint, yet I see you ethereal.

 A selfish role, My model, My muse.

Without ever warranting this devotion. 

Maybe a different time in a different place

Is where we were meant to be.

What we have become is tolerable. 

I can find contentment in dormancy.

A slow burn for the ages.

This is one of my poems. I hope you enjoy it :)