i love the sunset, here. i’ve moved the bed and when i’m sitting upright on a day off from work, the only glow in the room is from the tv which i’ve put on pause and the computer i ran out to grab, ran because it’s cold and i need to be under the blanket. so i look out from where my head goes in this bed and it’s the crack between the curtain and the window, and behind this house i see the back of a six story apartment building that is brick painted white but it’s the dark rusted fire escapes that give it the right touch. reminds me i’m in a city after all.
i fall in love with the way the top of the building hits the sky when the light is like this, when it’s a thin pale glow, when the colors are muted, when everything is taken down, taken back, a notch. he asks me what i’m looking at and i say, “nothing”, as though it is my secret. and i watch the lights go on and off in those homes, and i wonder what’s going on inside. and i watch the clouds go by against the building, against the bare tree branches. my secret slice of world.