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Show WINDOWSTLLS Tonight the cat beside me shrugs off light with every shifting of the leaves. She watches me as I speak this out loud, the night so immense and beautiful. No wonder I loved early mornings as a child when they were filled with darkened clouds thick as rugs and heavy as the gray coat my mother wrapped around me. I'd xvalk the long block of railroad houses, old women less brittle than myself propped on their tender forearms, breasts like purses against the windowsills, The lights from the school up ahead were on and made me want to be there. With each step the voices slowly sank into me like the snow that fell onto the street then disappeared. Why it does not come in drifts anymore to meet me standing by the window does not matter right now as the world outside is ready to enter. 11 |