Impatience

She didn't call
I longed to hear her voice but there was only silence.
Waiting on the unmade bed seeing yellow.
Pushing through densely packed cotton wool, cold
With the scent of mint and thyme
She didn't call.
Daisies falling before my brimming eyes.A train
Whistles
And cups rattle in the kitchen.
An aftertaste of tomatoes, dry on the roof of my mouth.