Waiting Up for You

falling in love with an idea

by Elizabeth Moore

You love me, you love me not. 

This is how the petals fall. 

I built you a home within my thoughts. 

I furnished each room. I painted each wall.

I kneaded some dough and set it to rise,

the yeast of my yearning

an offering in disguise. 

I waited up all night for you. 

I kept the lamps burning, 

kept the stove warm too.

I thought, any minute,

you’ll walk through the door.

This home is just perfect. 

And you–even more.

The table was set

for you to arrive,

so I waited and waited

‘till the lamp was barely alive. 

With an unfair gust,

the flame was snuffed out,

and alone in that house,

I started to doubt.

Didn’t you say you’d come around this time? 

Didn’t we agree that, by now, you’d be mine?

Or did I make that up in my head?

Did I build this house for a phantom instead?