There was a girl across from mine, dancing. And I should have closed the curtains or gone back to watching “Homeland” or done one of the many other things I should be doing but instead I watched for 10 minutes like some creepy expat. And I thought, this is very pretty. And I thought, it’s a good thing I don’t have binoculars. And I thought, there are few things I enjoy more than dancing by myself and my gosh I wonder if anyone’s watched me.
And she stopped dancing and I stopped watching and I sat down to write my weekly column, which was either going to be about going to Deerhunter at KITEC or my anger at
taxi fares rising to HK$22 so I have to break bills in the morning. But I found myself smiling at this very enjoyable, very mundane type of activity. So I decided to write a poem. I hope you enjoy. I hope she enjoys also. I hope—for my sake—that she uses her curtains as well. I don’t want to fall too far down the rabbit hole.
To The Girl Dancing in the Window Across From Mine
The curtain obscured you and I hid behind mine,
Waving it to surrender inside,
You leapt and you breezed from one side to one side
And the window responded and heaved forth in time.
My dear, I think I’ve been in love with you
You’re in love with TV, with the 1980s,
As you dance to its music with bemusement I watch.
There’s something inside (me), watching something outside (you)
And all of my lies are suddenly true and you dance.
And you dance.