a cinematic beauty

it was late
glistening reflections
of cinematic beauties
on my black
high-heel 
shoes
reeling

he was waiting
an hour away by 
automobile
in that country community
of broken metal yards and
trash can houses

in a dark 
dog-hair living room

I stumbled on the exit 
route
midnight behind me
hands on my lower back
curves and 
wondering

what I see in these
black high-heel
shoes-

towers of never
with those old-fashioned
windows
where you can see 
through 
the glass

see
their lives
living 
writing out
scripts for the same 
blatant movie

a woman
washing rags
blood and stains
in the kitchen sink

a man 
tying
leather laces 
next to a
newspaper briefcase- 

on the ground 
looking up
it got late

I felt
tall
but not 
tall
enough 

to surpass 
that black, glistening 
never
of my lover's  
window-screen