I’ve Been Feeling a Lot Like an Edward Hopper Painting Lately

as if it’s always that time of day when everything stills
and i am nearly as naked as the light
i stand at a window and wonder if it is dark enough yet
for my shadow to be cast onto the street
and touch each streetlamp on like a hand’s half-hearted caress of a piano’s keys
though i have stopped drinking   the air tastes like wine
i bend over   pose myself like a woman   take pictures to prove
no one else is in the room   a book   a folded bed sheet
i pick these up to test the weight of my solitude
before great love comes great emptiness   the streets fill with a fragrant silence
and breath ripples out from a central point
as if from a great distance      i am a sexual being      a proclamation or a prayer
hard above the earth   my shoulders tone their empty bells
outside there are only more windows   you can hear the ringing from far off
announcing a wedding   a death   or another hour   more time
my loneliness is not unique   but it is the most precious thing to me