Poor Abby

a lonesome beauty watching others live and love and lust:
coffee colored waves framing chocolate, almond eyes
watching colleagues and some passersby meet and greet

laughing
clasping hands
taking leave

with no real friends to speak of
she wonders, though why she has to wonder -
why she's all alone,

no one knows.

each morning greeted dully
systematic travel,
work, and then

each night received from contours
of an ever empty bed.
empty save for one:

our beauty.

only dreams and silent musings
to warm her cheerless heart
until that night.

he knocks.

handsome neighbor -
just moved in across the hall -
he asks her this, tells her that

then somehow frantic love-making
'tween our beauty's lonely sheets -
continues for a week or two.

the visits stop.

Neighbor's home we know
for days
lights twinkle 'neath his door.

one morning on the street,
our beauty spies him -
talking with a girl.

laughing
clasping hands
taking leave

she waits atop the staircase
invites him in
and then

neighbor's frozen arms embrace
her vital torso pressed against
his no-more beating,

now forever,

ever so-still

emptied chest.

the sticky redness stains her sheets.
but it's alright -
at least she has a friend.