by Robert Salley

She once lived

at 1418 Hamilton Avenue

in Hamilton, New Jersey.

It was on the first floor

where rain fell

the time I was there.


And I watched,

from a bed with no sheets,

the curtains dancing

in the window

as her begging morphed
into a regretful whisper.

She wrote the letter
a year later,
from the steps
outside her door,
not to tell me 
she was engaged,
or to tell me 
she was moving away forever,

but to tell me
she loved me
just so
on that rainy night.