she throws pebbles at my window
and then lets herself inside my room.
She covers every mirror in a silver shroud
to stop me from staring at my face,
scrutinizing everything wrong, all that’s brought
me here. She holds my cheeks in her hands
and brushes her lips over my forehead.
I ask her if, in every life, I am alone like this.
She says, only if you want to be, only if you want it.
I tell her how sometimes he is suddenly
walking in front of me on the street
in all of the cities I have lived. She tells me,
It was me. I am the only one following
you. Why the cruel disguise, I wonder.
She reads my thoughts, answers
I can only be near you if you want me here.
She stands behind my curtains. She stands
inside of my closet. She crawls under
my bed. She crawls into bed beside me.

—Alyssa Froehling

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