The Beauty of Ill Timing

The clock ticks
and I wait, wait, wait
for you to come around

My foot flinches
and I tap, tap, tap
to make a sound

My breath hitches
and I inhale, exhale, inhale
to calm myself down

It’s finally past dawn
and you are here

But I stand and say
“It’s too late, late, late”
and walk away

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