Through this second story window I can see straight into her bedroom.
Room painted blue.
White satin curtains.
Black satin sheets and the pillows to match.
Warm wooden furniture her mother gave her for Christmas.
She doesn't talk to her much.
Infact, I'd go so far as to say her mother resents her a little for moving so far away from home to go to college.
She takes it in stride.
She has a more pleasant disposition than most, only rarely do I see her unhappy.
And when I do it doesn't last long.
I love to watch her dance.
She has hips like an hour glass.
Her skin the color of clay
Her eyes are the water and mud of the Rio Grande.
I am shoreline parched and waiting for her caress to soothe my blisters.