WINDOWS

by Stephen Jarrell Williams

Lots of windows long years
opening and closing my mind
on things like...

your silhouette in room corners dark
sitting in a chair staring at me
frowning...

bedroom carpet growing a mouth at midnight,
teeth as big as my boots lost in the closet
you ran into...

you're always naked
in what I remember when drinking
alone...

someone blowing that blasted horn
in the distance beside the crossroads
barren in the crimson dust...

clouds speeding over our bed
out in the Arizona desert
howling in our embrace...

where did you go while I was sleeping
under pillows piled on my head
by you?

my tombstone in a giant mirror
on the only wall left
beside a thousand shattered windows...

why didn't you just hang
curtains?