You wait for something you have never seen,
As though by looking you could make it so;
Your every sense on edge, and poised, and keen,
Your searching eyes still scanning to and fro

For in your mind he’s coming – coming soon –
For all of that’s worked out inside your head:
It’s any minute now, or night, or noon
The field of endless pleasure that’s your bed

You know he has to know the way you feel
For he has made you feel it when you sleep,
And when you wake, and all points in between,
The need you have is everywhere, and deep —

The hours drag, the outside world still hums,
And you wait for a man who never comes