UNOPENED BOOKS
UNOPENED BOOKS
Night after night she sits naked on a
unshared bed
breathing in the cool air.
The dreams of her youth
lay scattered on the dark floor.
Her hair hangs long across her shoulders
and the soft pearl moon lights her form;
not young, not old.
The silence consumers her and she wishes
for the release of a new day.
Across town a half a world away,
a streetlight shines through a
bare window frame.
It cast a pale yellow light
on a empty bed with a picture of
Jesus hanging at its head.
The man stands as a silent witness
to the night. Half hidden by the shadows,
the red glow of his cigarette lights
his face; not young, not old.
The wind moves the faded curtains
just so and they speak nothing at all.
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