Wake

I find myself beside your hospital bed
bright lights reveal your eyes
still closed as they have been before
I smell the scent of jasmine filling the room
your nose might catch its drift
drawing, intoxicating
I try having one-sided dialogs now
your ears should sense my tone
stroking them as it whispers:
open your eyes and say that you hear me!
don’t make me wait anymore.
I call softly for sleeping beauty — arise!
(unwise) I try to improvise: I’m asking louder
open your eyes and say that you hate me!
don’t make me wait anymore.
Waiting for your unplanned
waking while I pretend
taking so long to have you with me is a burden I can stand
I see Frankie between some records I brought
he asked you for a dance
but you declined politely
I rub lightly the tip of your cotton gown
so thin that with no words
my hands could tell your skin to
open your eyes and say that you want me to leave
Waiting for your unplanned
waking while I pretend
taking so long to have you with me is a burden I can stand
we’d go dancing and be just like Fred and Ginger
(I'll even let you lead if you don’t like my moves)
and then I’d give you flowers
the ones you love,
that go with your evening dress we’d hold hands at the movies
and make faces as Tracy and Hepburn kiss
we’d share ice-cream for dinner
and I could tell you all about when I had hopes for me to stop
waiting for your unplanned
waking, while I pretend
taking so long to have you with me is a burden I can stand