We Share This ‘Home’ Between Two Houses

Imageby Andrew M. Harbach08 Dec 2015

And still I see your window sill.
When I first met you, I was always able to see beyond your pane.
Apparent years of unfit hearts brought me to you.
It was then that I knew –
You were the most beautiful exemplary figure of pure perfection that I could not but dream to brush my lips to your hand.
Or speak your name.
And still I see your window sill.
That time without you, oh my stinging, how I couldn’t but I did still…
See you from your window sill.
And then you tell me, lo, you bear near whisper, its foundation:
- a little picked piece of jaundiced prowess –
You told me that you care to do what you will without what others come to say.
And still I see your window sill, your people all, in changing grace.
I’ll stand afar to make your coffee. I know how you like it – in that you sometimes don’t.
So I have you take it in lightness – liquid smoke – because I, myself am too strong, to be taken in one dose. But should my Colombian spirit be but distilled –
I’ll sip with you – I’ll sit by you, as always still; within your arms, behind our tempered window sill.