To Wait, To Linger

I’m there when the time stops ticking seconds.
The moment so different than all I’ve known this day.
I fail to fault and lose my way.
Laying in wait among those leaves that decay.

I stay a while, my breathing so still,
my heart so soft beating,
like moth wings embracing the flight.

And here I am to tell no story,
laying here – a living corps.
Eyes cast up to the mirror,
who’s reflection am I?

My eyes watch the stillness of the day,
so bleak, so gray.
My hands lay at rest,
My limbs frozen, my skin so cold.
Among the weeds I feel at home,
somewhere I can grow and not belong.
I’m cast away to find refuge-
to wait and linger,
Made only to be there,
in the stillness of the passing hour-
immortal to the ever changing time.
So incomplete in longing,
what pieces am I missing,
if I am never whole?

That statue,
standing ever so still,
breathing no sigh of misery,
bearing no skin to feel the cold,
she’s beautiful.

by Victoria Long

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