This Window is a Thirst But Not a Good Drink

From this window
In time and space,
I mark my place
With the soft
Retreat of senses
And a slow dance to
Self and lessness.
Below, pale offerings
Emerge from sun caverns to
Delight the sidewalks.

From a Hopper-lit
Soft corner of
A window
I see faces,
Distorted and stretched
To screams of
Sad orifices that
Used to delight
Sidewalk persons.

I prefer this
Downward view
Shaded by drawn,
Sanctimonious pillars
That split this curtain
On fateful or frivolous
Occasions that have
Marked my place
In time and space.

Having no more truths
I can deny to myself,
I ask my monsters
To surrender,
To come inside the window, and
Not to shatter those images of
Cardboard people
Marking places
In other times
Through uncertain faces
And switched spaces
Of light from
Former windows.

© Joanne Zarrillo Cherefko