take my love in real small doses.
knock, knock.
Because we are neighbors only and bound by silent elevator rides with gentle smiles. Because we put our garbage down the same chute at the end of the hall with the buzzing lights and thumb the same apples for bruises at the same grocery store. Because I don’t know your name beyond Tenant of 4b, and sometimes I’ll get your junk mail in my box, and your phone ringing in the morning after you’ve left for work wakes me. Because I’ve never heard your voice, just the muffled end of a one-sided conversation with what I imagine to be a lover from far away, maybe across an ocean. Because I can smell your dinner cooking and it is not for me to have...
I can see your laundry hanging on the fire escape and I want the power of reverse sight; to see you without your clothes rather than your clothes without you. We sleep in identical apartments maybe with our headboards pressed against adjacent walls and your nighttime noises keep me up with the unmovable ache of our distant proximity.
--- photograph by milka.
prose by carrie / fairweather,
an anonymous suggestion we received recently.
thank you ♥
-----
your open arms welcome us back every week, like open doors open-ended on golden saturdays (and most tuesdays). thank you always.
Because we are neighbors only and bound by silent elevator rides with gentle smiles. Because we put our garbage down the same chute at the end of the hall with the buzzing lights and thumb the same apples for bruises at the same grocery store. Because I don’t know your name beyond Tenant of 4b, and sometimes I’ll get your junk mail in my box, and your phone ringing in the morning after you’ve left for work wakes me. Because I’ve never heard your voice, just the muffled end of a one-sided conversation with what I imagine to be a lover from far away, maybe across an ocean. Because I can smell your dinner cooking and it is not for me to have...
I can see your laundry hanging on the fire escape and I want the power of reverse sight; to see you without your clothes rather than your clothes without you. We sleep in identical apartments maybe with our headboards pressed against adjacent walls and your nighttime noises keep me up with the unmovable ache of our distant proximity.
--- photograph by milka.
prose by carrie / fairweather,
an anonymous suggestion we received recently.
thank you ♥
-----
your open arms welcome us back every week, like open doors open-ended on golden saturdays (and most tuesdays). thank you always.