naked window

Doorbell rings, late, sharp as thunder.One familiar face from across the street.Neighbourly greetings, maybe?You grin, half-hello forming.Her...

But then—strange shift, nights feel empty.Curtains close earlier, balconies go still.No poses, no glances, nothing like before.Binoculars...

Curiosity itches—next day you buy binoculars.Not for birds, not for stars.Every window now in crisp detail.Hair flips,...

Fresh keys, fresh lease, skyline wide.Curtains half-drawn, boxes still sealed.You glance out—then pause, eyes widen.Across the street,...