The Red Curtain

Leah Milenkova

There was a red velvet curtain
hanging in your bedroom,
trying to keep the light out:
all the sunlight and all the moonlight.

[But there is no moonlight in the sky.
Not tonight and there wasn't any
that night.
There were only clouds threatening rain.

But the rain never fell:
We stayed safe and dry.
No storm ever passed over us two,
even though we didn't have the moon to guide us.

No storm passed between us either.
It was always like that:
No sun and no rain,
There were no stars but also no darkness.]

So, I pulled the red curtain
so it would hide us from the streetlights
and we slept there in the dark
hidden from all the judging, prying eyes.

And when I woke up in the morning
there was finally sunshine
and I pulled back your curtains
to see the sun from your point of view

And I discovered:
The curtains were a little orange -
not at all velvet and not quite
red -

And neither were you.

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