When I Think About The Roof

She liked to sit on the roof
when the house got dark in
the summertime. It was
the sound of the crickets
that made her forget to think,
and brought her to the brink
of her day. It was the only way
to get something of value for nothing,
and every moment she spent by herself
was another step closer to something to say.
She loved to stay up late and get drunk off of
other people’s wine, all the time, we would tell her
to take it easy but she couldn’t hear that
over the sounds of the engines in her head
that caught fire when she went to bed.
Don’t get lost on your way to the porch
where the beer is kept and fallen leaves
are quickly swept under the tables and chairs.
She is going up the stairs in a dress that hugs her
hips so tightly, and I cannot help but look away
to avoid being caught while I stare.

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