Don’t raise the sash. Don’t even ask
if it can be done, though a crowbar
might help. Just step back and admire
the view. There are mountain peaks there
for me and ocean waves rolling
up on a crescent beach for you.
See how our breaths fog the glass? Adds
humid weather to our climate
controlled environment. We’re standing
too close to the window, to each
other. Our proximity means
nothing once you consider all
the miles that lie between us, those
mountains, that beach: swamps, rivers, fields
full of cotton and sweet corn, hills,
full-grown cities in the valleys
with high-rise apartment buildings
on every corner, like the one
we’re standing in right now. You miss
the quicksand and I, the rockslide,
searching for our first tornado.
