My Cardboard Balcony

We Are Open by Belinda Roddie bathrobe half open sash lying still like a snake struck dead by unexpected gravity you nestle between me and the blue cushions of my mother's couch door half open leading to the outside where the fingers of flowers gasp for cooler air and more copious water the thirst never ends at the beginning of summer especially not now we are here we are here tonight when the heat has dissipated into mirages of morning we are here we are here tonight and we are open

You forget to close your blinds, and suddenly the light of a thousand suns is blazing through your window. Tearing your eyes open. Flinging you from your sheets with its sheer glare. You try to hide from it, but you see that now hundreds of your shadows are cast along the walls. And this morning, they all want to dance.