Another bright morning,
an hour earlier than I normally wake
and I slide up from the covers,
and out of my room.
The lights are almost always off in this apartment,
big windows overlooking sunbathed hills one way,
construction the other.
On the coffee table lies charcoal,
an etching on bright white paper,
a girl unclothed and turned away.
“Embarrased,” says my roommate.
I leave, start my day,
the morning ends,
but the girl stays,
akward and bent,
face turned away from the sunlight that fills the room.