I'm in love with the girl next door
don't even know who I was before
she moved in with her plants and midnight dancing.
Don't think anyone has ever been so enchanting
I have never even used the word
and yet when she's not in the window I am bored.
So I ask what's on her nightstand?
Instead of what she does with her right hand.
Now I'm reading "Ode to Aphrodite"
feeling wound so tightly
while she spins her records nightly.
We're knocking at each others walls
because she has no number to call
only a broken rotary phone
and I so love and loathe to be alone,
deep in the complexity of my own home.