I am as awake as you are.
These things are gonna kill me.
Behind the apartment where we have made our beds
and unpacked our suitcases,
there is a road that leads to a staircase.
The stairs and bannisters are white
with fountains, flowers, and herbs
at each of the three landings.
The stairs lead to the foot of the Lichtenstein Museum,
and statues sit atop the fences.
Do you ever itch to know?
I didn’t, then did, then didn’t,
and do again.
Sometimes, when I am awake,
and the window above my bed rattles,
I wonder how it could have happened.
This isn’t a riddle.
There are benches on the landings too.
Sometimes a man is talking on his phone in a language
that sounds like water.
It is possible to be in Vienna,
on Boltzmangasse near Lichtenstein,
and standing at the edge of a meadow
in a country less romantic than Austria.
I feel more like a woman
when I think
in two places at once.
I put sugar cubes in my coffee.
Take hours drinking and looking
at the empty cup.
It rains, then stops,
it rains on everything here.
I don’t know if you will ever
wonder. The sky turns pink
I am as awake as when the sun went down,
the rain sounds like running water.