Games of Patience

We did say ten o'clock
I think.  Did we?
Did we say here?
Could it have been somewhere else? Later?
Could we have misunderstood each other?

Have you stood me up?

Are you waiting for me somewhere?
Have you just changed your mind?
Have you just forgotten?
Are you all right?
(Am I all right?)

It's twenty past ten.  We'll be late now.

I didn't want to be late -
Wanted to be here before you
To greet you
So you didn't have to wait wondering
Where to put your hands, your gaze, your thoughts.

But not this early.

Did you expect me to be late?
I frown, fretted and nettled.
My heart is thumping 
My head throbs with nonsense
Have you stood me up?
Do I care? (Do you care?)
My body says 'get up.  Go home'
My stomach is aching.
I raise my eyebrows, indignant
Did I expect you to be late?

I hurt, in my head, my heart and my belly.

I twiddle my thumbs.  
I get up, fractious
I walk to the door.  
Should I talk to these people?
I, discomposed, have nothing to say
That I want them to hear
When there's pain in my heart
I return to my chair.
I sit, frustrated.
I twiddle my thumbs

For the hundredth time

My head says
'You'll be here in a minute…'
Minutes seem like minutes.
I notice them pass
There are many minutes.

I shall not tell you how I hurt.

I shall not ask why you are late -
There will be reasons.  You won't 
Have to hear my pain as accusation
You won't have to ask 
'Why does it matter so much?'

And I won't have to answer.

When you arrive I know
I will be glad to see you glad
To see me
My head will stop throbbing
My heart will stop thumping

But each time it takes longer.