it is 1:00 a.m. and I hear her outside my window.
on this warm spring chicago night, I hear the girl
crying, speaking into her cell phone, sobs and worry.
he kicked her out of the apartment.
her voice, frantic, angry, dispair.
I hear her friend talking, I don't feel quite as bad
the girl is not alone, she has someone who knows her
she will help, I reason.
I hear the sound of her shoes,
heels clip clopping on the hard sidewalk
as she runs past my second story window
I hear her run back towards her apartment, angry
determined to get back inside
she returns, back beneath my window
yelling, so hurt, so angry, sounding lost
