Sonya was in a mood
because it was raining
and we were in Paris

the hotel room
looked out
on the Parisian streets
wet and shiny
people passing by

she at the window moody
I on the bed
reading Dostoevsky

we should be out there
she said

well go out there
I said

it's wet
my hair will look terrible
why does it rain
while we're here
on holiday?

maybe the rain didn't know
we were on holiday

funny
she said sulkily

I glanced over at her
standing there
by the open window
arms folded
her red shorts
and pink top
long legs

we can go out
once it stops

I want to go out now
she turned
and stared at me
how can you read a book
at a time like this?
and a Russian book too

it's about a guy
who murders
a couple of women
I said

and I’m supposed to care?
she looked at the streets again
hissing at the rain

the book takes you
right there
makes you feel
like you witnessed
the murders
like some snoop

**** the rain
she said

when I read
Solzhenitsyn's book
about a day
in a labour camp
in Russian's cold
and snow and such
I felt I was actually there
I said

she leaned out the window
and put one
of her hands out
think it's stopping

I felt I knew
the main character
in the novel
like an old friend

I want to go out now
she said

I closed the book
and sat
on the side of the bed

she came away
from the window
arms still folded
eyes blue and stern
and hair fixed
into a blonde
pony tail

we had good ***
the night before
but that's
another tale.