it was musty—
mold grew in the basement—
the walls needed
ventilation—
closed doors seemed too
invasive—
but he knew she had ulterior
motives—
it was an old apartment—
he gave her that—
but it was only their first—
not their last—
and he didn’t like being
cold at breakfast—
why did she take the latch—
after he was fast asleep—
and slide open the hatch in
the bathroom—
she let the moonshine bathe
her—
as she stood in the tub—
until her feet grew weary
and the snow
melted upon her tongue—
why did she leave it open—
was the eggs on toast
question—
she never told him—
she liked to hear the train
pass—
as she lay awake thinking.
RL
