in a window through a window
looking out over Winthrop Street
a woman with blond hair wipes
a table
in the background is the silhouette
of a man with a cap
he sits beside another window
and when the table is wiped a woman
sits sipping coffee
I can see the sheen of her stocking
Her legs are crossed and a high boot
juts above her knee above the low
table top
She adjusts the window maybe it's the
draught or the noise that disturbs her I cannot tell.
in a window through a window
looking out over Winthrop Street
my soul is an artesian basin
an aquafir replenished with your love
filled from the deluge of
your pain drowning me
in a window through a window
looking out over Winthrop Street