open windows

the heat was other worldly
july humidity hides everywhere
bleak and listless
it corrupts everything.
               the street lined with 4 bedroom prisons
people trapped inside
slaves
2 the air conditioning units in their windows
eye almost
lose myself 2 the soft hum of the machines
when eye see her
she stands completely nude
sweaty all over despite the cold
graceful neck
rolling hips
a glimpse of the most magnificent ass before she
sits back in the chair under the jet stream
moist from something
maybe not the heat
but something
waiting for someone?
               thinking of being touched by him
wanting the sweat 2 pool in her navel
so it sticks like paste between them
the longing
the long weeks since he’s fulfilled her,
his presence eye mean
no other pun intended
she may not be that kind of woman, eye think
until her fingers sink from my vision
her knee rises above the sill
she shifts
and the cold air constricts everything eye can
see through the window….
the change in her breathing
eye hear a faint hum
above the one from the air conditioners
and eye can feel her fingers
questing
probing
               wiping away my writer’s block
my sickness, and
circling my desperation
and taking all the gray in my life
my shattered existence, its
shallow edges worn
rubbed smooth by tragedy
and shoving them
in2 the 180 degrees of color
of unison
between our open windows

~ by abnegation on July 19, 2008.