Stare

From my kitchen window I saw the world very clearly.

I looked into buses and homes and restaurants and offices.

The dreadlocked man in the bus saw me staring– waved and blew me a

kiss– I waved back.

The couple in the restaurant saw me staring and moved to a different table.

The people in the offices never looked up at me.

The girl in the home whose shadow painted naked every night at nine saw

me, walked up to the window, plastered her breasts on the transparent glass

and screamed- wanna share a cigarette sometime soon? I ducked and while

under the table, I thought her body was immaculate.

Then I stood up and her window was shut, curtains drawn.