the keys in the door let things in other than the wind,
like the sound of footsteps through the back alley through the back window of the kitchen
(you've been living in the alley for six months and seven days and you didn't tell me),
i suspected you were there - every time the keys moved i knew it.
she talks of pasta
and she tells me to look out the window and i find you of course not entirely unexpected,
i don't want to know that you have been there for six months and seven days -
was it you that was there when i closed my blinds in the morning or stared out into the darkness that the backlight from the kitchen made?
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