Concrete Divider

laying there on the floor
by the couch
the steady beating of rain
falling behind us
quiet confusion dissipating

personal feelings aside
three rooms, one bathroom
chinese pages stacked
on the shelves
a difficult seeming barrier

a twisting stomach
she strums the guitar
an old computer buzzes
the apartment door banged
eight dollars for pizza

china plates and plastic cups
short black hair
singing and reading
scribbles of small notes
beauty written upon her walls

an empty purse
in a wheezing Volkswagen
locking the door
and wondering
why are we so different?

pass the line
there's smiles and happy leaf blowers
fancy boots, big coats
spending more money
than time spent with the kids

thinking back now
to apartment D-12
an intersection of
shaky hands
and two
neutral colors

under dim lights
a connection was found