the bathroom window

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