24 Days

sitting at a table, book in hand
you glance above the cover there
anticipation worries you
for the things you were to do
left you dangling from a thread

unsure and possibly unprepared
you squirm a little in the seat
uncomfortable in your own skin
for the first time in your life
hypervigilance no longer freeing

will he wear the expression in your mind
say the words repeating in your head
Coronado paints a vivid picture
kissed of a different artist
will the colors be as bright for you both

the mental inventory of your soul
no longer feels quite adequate
as each second leaves you sitting
in the warm anticipation beneath you
caused by your maddening heart-beats

the bell above the entry signals your senses
its quiet ding the trigger of your desires
he speaks in a monotone whisper
the words, which once fully comprehended
transforms those 24 days into the next 24 hours