The Edge of Patience

Last week I went crazy with stress, worry, and missing people. I wrote this poem while standing at the bus station, waiting for Ingi, who was walking over from her house.

"The Edge of Patience"

With electricity charging from

my guts to hair tips,

I wait for you to come in

"2 minutes," pacing along a

crack between sidewalk tiles,

and I don't know what to

do with my jittery hands.

-Sweet Bra