My Cardboard Balcony

The Student Next Door by Belinda Roddie The student next door knows every word to the song you've written for a steel string guitar. She listens to each soft syllable and mouths along to a sweet lullaby that she never got to hear from the lips of her own cold and soggy mother. The student next door hears every conversation you have with your wife over dinner and drinks. No matter how banal the subject of the chat, she'll cling to "So I thought about..." and "Whatever you think is right, I'll support you." And of course, she collects each "I love you" and saves it in her back pocket. The student next door doesn't know your name, nor knows where you work or what you teach. While the summer's still hot, she'll find you in your classroom, counting out all your passions by hand. And she'll recognize your voice, and she'll see the calluses on your fingers, and she won't stop smiling.

You came to me on an winter's night, and you swept me off my feet. You brewed all the love you had in a bowl, piping hot, for me to drink. As I took a sip, I felt the edges of my mouth curl up with fire. I saw your visage through the smoke, and you were my greatest desire. You carried me to the bed upstairs, and we huddled together for warmth. I knew despite this blizzard, you would protect me through the storms.