A boy from the city
moves in next door
and she teases him
after she catches him
spying on her
from his upstairs
window. One night
she pulls aside
her lace curtains,
turns on some
rock music and,
smiling, dances
across the bedroom
in flowered panties
and bra. She shakes
her shoulders, her new
breasts swaying
in 4/4 time. Then
she lies on the bed
beneath the window,
phones Megan
and entwines her
left hand in her
blond hair as she
talks. She rolls
onto her stomach,
swishes suntanned
calves through
the still air,
and giggles,
aware, aware.
She hangs up,
stretches, turns
onto her side,
and sees, sitting
in the dimly lit
window across
the way, not the
boy, but the father,
watching her with
serious intent.
