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Waiting - Noah Reese-Clauson

I’m as sentimental as I’ve been.

You’re my friend.

I’m tired of waiting—

For happiness.

For what others take for granted.

For the world to crinkle, as the vinyl needle night reads a song of

freedom just for us.

I can touch my chest.

Your hand has been there.

I can wet my lips.

Your lips have done that.

I can read The Bell Jar.

Your eyes have been there.

We’re one poem closer;

Waiting hurts.

If books were really windows I would break them.


Noah Reese-Clauson is a writer and former managing editor for The Mossy Log student run newspaper. You can find his work in Political Power Play (Available on the Poet's Choice website) and the Mossy Log website. He is from Chicago Il and enjoys being outside.


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