Through the summer hail
I can see her from my chair.
Pulling back her hair, curtains,
searching the storm for something
she can’t find in her
marriage.

First, it was the nakedness that caught my gaze
but it was her face that refused to release;
the way she carried every trauma
in the oversized bags beneath her eyes, and the
realization

that could be me one day
or you
naked on a Thursday in your
kitchen knowing **** well a 19 year old girl
is watching you watch the storm but
not doing anything about it because
it’s the most exciting thing that has
happened all
week.