When you say “wait”

     and rise to your full height 

     your full and encompassing girth 

   your full measure 

         of curves and hips and thighs

.

       your full dress 

     falling like first rain

         across a blessing of breasts and belly

      across a feast of touches:

          your hand to mouth

         your palm to waist

your fingers to smooth an imagined wrinkle 

      across your lap

    your calves pushing back the chair

        your falling napkin

      against the surrendering table

.

.        I know that you are going to say,

            “…I’ll be right back”

     but

       there is something about the way

     you leave the table 

           the way you press yourself anew

  the way you rejoin the world above us

          the way you enter an exiting

        that says 

        to my soul

            “It’ll take some courage

              when she does that one last time”

.

.

.

Jas . Mardis