Push the window latch

Push the latch
Crack the bedroom window
Split it open just a little bit

Can you see
A rattan chair my mother gave me
Where I sit and rock dreams
Write adventures I haven’t been on
Spin stories no one reads

I’d always wanted white painted
Wooden windows
The kind with chocolate bar panes
Through which I see the world in frames

Grey curtains hang obediently
Defies wind and gravity
Holds the dust from my skin
Worn, dull and thin

Windows are enigmas,

From within one looks out
And yearns for more
Yet those outdoors peer in
Wishing they had another’s things
To cherish and adore

Truth is
There’s less you can see
But more you imagine there to be



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