looking out my window

I woke up this morning to someone playing “Beauty and the Beast” on a flute, somewhere from a window on the other side of our apartment building. I walk out onto the balcony, and so do our neighbors down below. We ask him to play another song, because today there is no rush. Today, there’s time. At noon, we hear a ballad of pans from children on a terrace. The metal music creates an echo between our buildings. From a distance, we smile at each other, and we feel close. Tonight at eight, we will see each other again. We Read More

my heart is red

My heart is red over the grass that settles between my two homes and the blood on the streets. My heart is red over the thought of my friends and the walk through Main Street. I hear the laughter that rolls out of our lungs, a ballad that laces my mind with spring. I hear the violinist’s ode.  She plays, and our minds dance. A crowd of loners gather, we hold out our selves into the tiny circle: a mixture of stories and accents, held silent by her ode. The City leans in, and our skin drinks deep from the Read More