She’s seated before a window, sun highlighting shiny diamonds in her hair.  Her fingers are flamingoes on her smart phone, a wily dance sped up to double speed, of muscle memory and familiar keys.  Lips as full as pillows that I long to cushion with my own, and the dress she wears hugs contours of which I am so painfully aware. Her eyes escape to velvet shores and silken sheets upon the beach, and I must look away too soon, lest she see me here. Scant feet separate us and small talk fills the space between, all luscious notes and … Continue reading Window. A poem.