I Peek Into Anothers Window

when the white silk drapes, come open at night, my whole being, anticipates scenes, that were forever lost to me, as a child, until she came. she comes back around, at fivefourty five and time is never lost, like a train. she has a four sided cottage, and the square is centered, around by us, her lovers wheel and pealed down paired. we hurry, us, all of us, to big a crowd and eyes we handle blind as rats and the nights are her personal crowd of hosts. she stands in all her glory, shoulders back, aureole pink, profiled she stands the mirrors wife, with silks rag buns of steel. on the stool outside her door, rest this jar we have come to know well, it's filled to the top with gifts, joys boyyo fat and green.