Complaint 93.7

Framed in pane
by Hadley Dion

Your apartment lies between 
my home                                                               and work.
                                                    my rideshare route, appoints me
                            hostage voyeur. At stop light,
                                                    my gaze telescopes
                                                        toward your window. 
                                                                        The third one
                                                                        back from the
Checking for video game glow or
                              sinned smoke through
                                                    decaying screen. The murky glass
                                          I once stared out of, draped
                                                    on ashy mattress. Framed in pane,
                                                    nude and stoned and wet,
                                                    kneecaps bruised. 
                              But you were right about one thing.
No one can see in. Even if I 
                                                              pushed pig nose to glass,
                                                I’d only ever find reflection
                                                    of a defeated me.
                            And you were never good
                                                                    at seeing anything 
                              of yourself. 

Hadley Dion is a writer, audio editor, and filmmaker from Los Angeles. Her poems have been published or are forthcoming in Scapegoat Review, Anti-Heroin Chic, FreezeRay Poetry, Nixes Mate Review, Olney Magazine, and more. She loves volunteering at her local cat rescue, ghost stories, and crafting punch needle rugs.

Image by Belle Co.