Daniel Agee

Brooklyn Window

Daniel Agee
Brooklyn Window

I can picture light pouring through our Brooklyn window. 
The bath, full of water and love, 
Shattering the light into figments & fairies. 
Pixies caress your skin while you adjust yourself against me.
Water drains out the bottom, sucking them down to be lost. 
Furious at our betrayal, the fairies spit, “You’re just two monkeys fucking.”

15F never felt so uncomfortable.
This has got to work.
I wrote you a letter that I’ll never send.
I’ve still got miles to go.
I’ll land and kiss your cheek.
I’ll carry my bag in my left
My right will hide in yours.
I’ll lie again, just so you’ll smile.
This has got to work.
I almost cried when I saw you; that’s when it died.
Tumbling through the terminal, you’ll trip.
I’ll go to one knee to help you,
I won’t be able to get back up.

I wonder if there’s something better, something stronger. 
Should’ve gotten a drink, shaken cold.
You look at me accusingly and say,
“Are you ready to go? We can’t be late. I got you something.
It’s in the car. Come with me.”
And you walk away from me. 
While I have our moment on the floor. 
How many more steps before you turn and look?
Before we were lovers I swear we were friends.

I’d hold you close and kiss you deep.
Push your hair back and hold back tears.
Clutch your back, holding you from the currents.
I’d this and I’d that.
I’d rather and I’d willingly.
I’d something and I’d other.
I’d love and I’d hate.
I’d fight and I’d compromise.
All I did was stand up and feel apathy.

I still hope this works.
You hand me a book,
Looking like sex in yellow dress.
I lean over to hug you and look down your shirt.
You smell of lilies and other men.
You taste of cigarettes. I ask.
“I quit months ago. It’s just the car. I wouldn’t do that to our lungs.”
All smiles, hiding behind sunglasses.
Well-wishes are left behind on the side of the road.
This won’t work, will it?
You actually thought I’d like this book?

I clutch your hand carefully and I feel my heart burst.
It’s frigid and we’re wrapped in tiny blankets.
No one loves soccer, but we’ll pretend.
I’m on the inside of your leg.
I wish we were somewhere else.

Kissed before we came.
Hiding in the kitchen, adventuring for keys.
I grabbed your soft hair and kissed you.
Hard, no lust lost, no love found.
We’re just two monkeys fucking.