Pressing my lips together
I wait.
Count the minutes down
but they never turn to hours
they stand still.
If patience is a virtue
then I must be the holiest woman around,
patron saint of the pathetic,
our lady of the long hours.
I call on the only God I know-
circumstance, happenstance, chance.
He only listens to
certain prayers and doles out
fickle blessings.
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