As soon as I press "done!" I stand up to look out the window
I'm sitting in front of the window, yeah, and all through writing it I was watching like television, craning my neck, putting stress on my shoulders and the grit of my teeth
at the darkness, the shades, the dips in cloud cover I can barely see anyway because it's so dark
so I press send
after that conversation and subsequent wandering
I press send and I stand up
to get a better look
at the storm
past my field of vision at this particular window
where the black and the grey
have melted away under the force of that pink
that bright fucking magenta
somewhere behind this the sun is setting
the red light of the antennae in the center
at the bottom
I wanted to photograph it
but it is gone already
it was only for that moment
like saffron curtains waving in the wind
only to be seen in that moment
and known