04-22-2016, 11:36 PM
An Apartment 1972
A pendant formed in frost on cold nights
across the lower kitchen window by
the wooden chair painted white.
Streetlights ceded shadow effects to
the far wall, like marks on her forehead
from fingernails - like bronze and silver,
like her golden birth sign twisted dark.
That afternoon she sat detached, looked
straight into the camera. The hem
of her skirt up, her skin grown lush
already starting to enchant.
His eyes were red. She fed him the lines.
By nightfall, her knees were to his chest.
From downstairs they heard cryptic lines of
Leonard Cohen seeping through the floor.
Come morning she sat by the window, fingers
pressed to the frost. He knelt by the chair,
tried to whisper in her ear, lost his voice.
A pendant formed in frost on cold nights
across the lower kitchen window by
the wooden chair painted white.
Streetlights ceded shadow effects to
the far wall, like marks on her forehead
from fingernails - like bronze and silver,
like her golden birth sign twisted dark.
That afternoon she sat detached, looked
straight into the camera. The hem
of her skirt up, her skin grown lush
already starting to enchant.
His eyes were red. She fed him the lines.
By nightfall, her knees were to his chest.
From downstairs they heard cryptic lines of
Leonard Cohen seeping through the floor.
Come morning she sat by the window, fingers
pressed to the frost. He knelt by the chair,
tried to whisper in her ear, lost his voice.

