Different Uses for Window // Arlene Ang
Replication. Of days, of stars.
A ledge to lean over gauges the distance
to certain death. I have sat
naked to the passing clouds
as they altered the freckles on my skin.
The chairs I’ve thrown out for the pleasure
of wanting them back.
I have scars from glass
where I was shattered. Urgent spasm
of wind. I started out a girl in the tower.
And now this hair outweighs me,
this sun as it transforms
the shoddy braid into gold. My favorite portion
in birds is the wing. Singular.
The promise of flying
without the possibility of cigarettes.
I can stand here forever
and watch the shadow of where I am
as it moves on the ground,
darkening the faces of men
the second they look up.