Standing on her porch, she’s been there too many times before
Waiting for the words that never come,
She’s standing there and she’s waiting for me to say…
But I haven’t found the words in my mind yet.

The words are there written all over her body language,
The futter of her eyes at sunlight tell one,
The snap quirky smile of mouth tell another,
And the subtle bend in her left knee
With both feet pointed at me
Are all cues
But I don’t know the words they ask.

It’s a Saturday night, the sun is hiding behind the equator.
Standing on her porch, she’s been there too many times before
Waiting for the words that never come…