I appreciate tall windows with clean edges,
as I love beautiful women in passing on the streets.
Clean edges, tall glass, what do they know?
I look through them; they never see what I see,
unless the light glows from my side of the pane
and the other side shines darkness.
But windows aren't windows
in that case;
they're mirrors.
Women are mirrors, mostly.
Their bulbs burn out too quickly,
especially when they hang down
from the basement ceiling
on a wire,
without a lampshade.
No comments:
Post a Comment