far tofrequent home comings

she sits with her legs bented and reseting nest to her in her seat. a shirt sits drapped as light as paper rolling in the breeze, jumping of her knees over and over then returning. its almost to cold to be waring the lights long sleave, almost. her fingers correse a glass of wine, more spun in the glass and inhaled then sipped. the suns starting to set and theres lines of gold shooting through the clouds, soon they'll be pink and brilliant red, soon he'll be home. her eyes follow the sounds of leaves falling from there perches and occasional birds fetching there lovers for dinner, blindly her eyes move, in reality just listening. her nails run allong the bottom of the glass she takes a deep breath and then a long sip, allowing every taste to cristalize before swollowing the necture down. a car rumbles softly in the distance, one leg slips from her side and rests on the floor as leans forwards searching the road for the lights, its been 3 weeks and shes grown to long the taste of his breath more direly with ever in hale of her wine. she closes her eyes and finds him in her thoughts, knowing he is close, finally getting closer. she leens back and finishes her wine as the car pulls in, then with one deep swollow and aprehensive pause, she stands, eyes still closed, he lifts her from her feet and spins in bautiful embrase, then kisses her face and finds her lips, shes smiling, "still you?" you asks in his ear. he wispers back, "and still yours."