Inside, Torrid Outside

I.

Nearing your apartment, I cross the idle railroad at a quarter ‘till 4:00.

Peak heat clings clothes to your form. Your back is turned, carriage always postured –

trained that way from dancing – never hinting. Recalescent.

Leaving, drapes ripple with the closing door, and we share the sidewalk where

the sun is humming. Rose petals: velvet texture.

Your lips, your skin.

II.

You lead us to water, and say that you will turn back if people are present.  No one, so we stay.

We toe and foot the river, and it’s running south, up hill, but I must have been turned around

somewhere. You’re looking away, and to my insecurities it’s an omen. I think back to looking up

across the train tracks to your apartment window; thin white drapes propped open on one side.

I had imagined your hand being responsible – imagined

you were looking out, waiting.

14 thoughts on “Inside, Torrid Outside

  1. Very tender and honest writing. I enjoyed it very much. The idea of a woman at a window looking out and all this might or might not mean to her lover, her partner, their mutual understanding and depth of love. This is a splendid piece of writing. And I enjoy the photographs, too, less for tenderness and more for their geometry and strength, and sense of light.

  2. A thought occurred to me recently about using objects and places to represent people rather than the people themselves. The effects were startling. You do this beautifully here. Great work, James.

  3. Such vivid and eloquent words, too exquisite! Excellent use of light in the photographs, what emotions they evoke, and the poetry so befitting, all flows with such sluicing sensation…fantastic entry here. Well done!!

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