The woman in the window flutters and burns like a dripping heart.
He appraises from below; his eyes tug at her hair.
“Hello!” He calls, “Here I am!”
She smiles and waves. It is her job to sit here, glowing in the shadows.
“Come down so I can talk to you!”
She pauses and looks down. The pages slip from her fingers and fall to his feet.
(Trees shiver and birds freeze in flight while the sun sits poised like a vase on the horizon.)
“I think I love you!” He yells.
She leans out into the sun and her smile is a burst of light that sprays the curtains and spills down the wall.
She tumbles down (through the slicing branches, cold feathery knives) and lands in a pool of shards at his feet.
He picks up the stained pages and sighs. She had a lovely face.
I’ve been having weird dreams lately. How about you? Any good ones you’d like to share?