the waiting is over

He stands up, opening his mouth, but it just hangs like some half-deflated balloon.

Her hands are clenched, arms straight and shaking slightly.

They both feel the sickness creeping in, into the stark blue room with the cold plastic chairs.

The obviousness of the box of tissues pisses her off. She slept here the past two nights and that little box had taunted her

soft white sheet peeking out its neck

waiting to be wrung


now it was over 
but she wasn't looking at the little box
the sky instead now mocked her 
blue and open 
despite the cramped darkness all around her
the sickness climbing up into her throat


they didn't speak
couldn't


just walked out of the cold room down the sterile linoleum halls and out 
into to the parking lot past the car
down streets past houses and kids on bikes and people eating 


to the pier where they sat and watched the water 
sway 
it slowly lulled their trembling and soothed their tired eyes 


numbness was a solid wall 
they would have to wait to climb 


for now their two hearts thumped
in answer to each other
close and somehow 

alive