To wait forever
            Takes a lot of patience

            Tousled hair and
            Rumpled bedsheets in the wings

            So when so-and-so 
            Throws in the towel
            My trousers will be cuffed and
            My collar lightly starched and
            Open at the neck

            The garden path
            Leads through the graveyard
            Where I bide my time with
            One eye on the lookout 
            And the other
            On the task at hand

            Unless I turn my head

            You won’t slip through


            Emanuel E. García, A Deeper Symmetry2014