Scandal

I hear
his voice
raspy baritone, rough to hear
soothing to touch
to taste, to feel.

I watch
as he walks by
each step light in conviction
his manner the same
each hurried, each coarse.

I yearn
as it were
the days even before now
awaiting his entry
still unheard, still hidden.

Passion
desperation
each labored breath
panting to catch him
his presence, my rest.