I kept on waiting
for those two hands that used to perfectly rest on my waist,
or your feather-like kisses on my forehead, on my neck, on my lips,
or your minty cool perfume that tickles my nose,
or your husky voice that hums and lulls me to Neverland,
or your warm body that I used to lean on and embrace.

I kept waiting,
from the intro, to the chorus, to the bridge.
I kept waiting
and the outro had come
but you're still not here.
I kept waiting
until our song ended
but there's no more you to dance with.

I played our song again.
Darling,
I'll be waiting.
–Myka M. Obinque

Photo: @isabelandbartosz (IG)