looking out the window

young and alive

nearing 25

with a clear head

remembering what was said

all night

it was all right

the jeune fille

slept well

& i heard tell

two bottles of fine wine were sipped

tongued and lipped

slowly swallowed

then next morning she followed

me home

where my large canvas currently sits

her black sweater and black fingertips

constantly brushing my face

with the taste

of promise

i began to paint her sigh

artfully she questioned me why

her breath escaping her lips

subtly squeezing her hips

it made no sense

so i said i'd draw her tomorrow

dressing her in sorrow

with a favorite pencil

and a bit of broken chalk

but she wanted to talk

like a Javanese toy

acting coy

so i took her in my studio

while she kept looking out the window.