The One-Way Window

The One-Way Window

Outside on the streets

In the pouring

Rain I stand,

Peering hopefully

Inside your second-floor window.

Inside you're dancing

To music I can't hear,

Her perfectly pointed toes

Tracing circles in your floor

Her twirling blue dress

Making soft ripples

In waves of mahogany.

Outside on the streets

Under the burnt-out

Lamppost I stand,

Gazing longingly

Inside your second-floor window.

Inside you're laughing

At something I can't hear,

Her perfectly long hair

Shading your face

Her darkly stained lips

 Whispering something more

In your ear.

Outside on the streets

Against the unrelenting

Wind I stand,

Staring desperately

Inside your third-floor window.

Inside her perfect hand

Searches for the light switch.

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