There's a woman across the way
Undresses nightly in an open window.
She slowly removes her dress
Her shoes an lovingly caresses
Her child-like breasts in a huge
Walled mirror that reflects loneliness
And some grave lack of love.
Before she extiguishes the light she stands
In all her naked bright, legs apart
With one hand over her heart and with the other
Blows kisses into the night, but not for me
However much I would like to think so,
I believe the nightly ritual is in protest against
Loneliness and lack of love, some missed chance
By a lover,perhaps, living in the memory.
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