Rick Leddy

I’ll Open the Window

 

I’ll open the window, she said

The quiet will overtake us

Moans becoming chanted prayers

The metronome of our hips

murmuring low rhythmic sighs

You will put your hand over my mouth

To contain the night screams

I will become a diamond beneath
the crush of your body

Sweat sliding skin on skin riding river rock

Mute velvet howls lingering in moon shadow

The silent explosions behind our eyes

Imprisoned in shudders

 

I’ll open the window, she said

If my parents are awake

I will say hello and goodnight

But, they won’t smell the fear and anticipation
clinging rainstorm hard to me

Won’t sense the vibrating ache of longing

disguised behind my billboard smile

They are so used to my lying
it has become a childhood melody

filled with half-forgotten lyrics

It is a place I have felt safe for too long

This door covered with the whorls of childhood

A portal leading to stale adulthood

A bedroom become a cold, empty vacuum
yearning for the seduction of danger

 

I’ll open the window, she said

I will close the door slowly

Then slip into bed

I will watch you climb in like a thief ready to steal

what is already yours

Grey on grey

Phantom fingers whispering as you undress me

Your hot breath staccato against my neck

I will arch as your eagerness presses into me

Lie to myself it’s the first time

The curtains will dance slowly to

the hint of a cool summer breeze

The light of a billion hidden suns will engulf us

And I will pretend that we will never get old

or grow tired of one another

Make believe that I will stop telling lies to strangers
I have known forever

 

I will open the window, she said

So, one day

I can escape