Idle Hands

[limesalttequila]

It happens mostly when I’m waiting:
In line at the grocery store
holding a gallon of milk and a bag of chips
on my hips

Or standing at the elevator
counting the floors
humming with each ting
before it opens in front of me

And queuing at the post office
parcels and postage
hugged to my stomach
as I shuffle to the front

I begin to sway
quite unconsciously
gently side to side
right, left, right

I only become aware
when my hand detaches and
snakes to my chest
to find no little head arrest

No squishy butt
wedged in that space between
my heart and my arm’s bow
trying to wiggle out of tow

I am rocking this void
while I wait
for my very last
chance to pass