Sunday, August 12, 2012

From A Window

I looked up to see her standing at her window today.
Her bright eyes stared out to the sunset. 
Far away from me.
She pretended not to notice as I sat upon the floor plucking loose threads from an unfinished blanket.
Today her hair was in curls.
Long, brown hair, running in rivulets over her shoulders.
Yesterday, and days before she also stood; looking out of that window, as clouds or blue skies would pass high above us.
And everyday in a different dress.
And everyday, her hair was held in many peculiar ways.
I looked up to her window to see her standing there today.
To see her pretending not to notice me, again.
But, she wasn't there again today.  
Just as she never was all of the other days.

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