Fingernails and my Heavy Heart

I thought about you today, 

The way you make me laugh. 

The way I make you smile. 

How natural we are together,

And the rivers voice, how still it spoke between us, on that beautiful Sunday.

I looked down at my fingernails,

"How were they so dirty again?" I wondered, 

Again. 

I do this a few times a day, 

it seems.

Notice the dirt under my fingernails.

About as often as I think of you.

So, I cut my fingernails, 

finally. 

They had gotten to grow,

for so long, 

on accident.

I thought about you once more

and in that moment, 

I became very frustrated. 

Very Sad. Confused. 

I have cut my fingernails

many times it seems,

since we have started taking walks together. 

I admire you and

I want to be held in the grasp

of your arms.

Tightly and solidly.

Yet,

I always feel frustrated

in waiting.

Why must I wait?

It's like torture,

you make me wait,

For your touch.

Just like,

My dirty fingernails 

torture me as well.

Because I have to cut them, 

again and again.

To wait, to cut them,

again. 

They collect dirt on our walks,

and wait with me. 

To touch you. 

Again.