The Window

Again, I am no longer stranded
In a room lit too bright,
With a light too blank.
No longer staring at my hard reflection
In the curtainless window,
Desperately hoping that no one
Is looking in, unseen, from the restless night.
And yet, knowing otherwise.

I am no longer vulnerable and stiff before the glass.
I've drawn the curtains, just enough
To duck behind them if I like.
As if by chance, the sky pales,
And once more, I can see the dim gray shapes
Whose absence haunted me before.
Now, we can see each other just the same.

June 6, 2005.