The Neighbor

The Neighbor Roey Leonardi (bio) He climbs the ladderwith a hunger to see.Up top he finds a windowsoftly streaming gold. He peers in at my motherand father tucked beneatha quilt the color of cream,he sleeping while she reads. I am there too, furledin their abdomens,waiting to become.The scene is rosy with lampglowand precious as a prayer cardpressed into a locket —too private, too beautiful to bear.He watches from the windowwith forehead pressed to pane,starving to be held as the white walls hold the bed,as the bed holds the bodiesand the bodies hold me.He holds himself. Then Mother looks upand screams.The light in the roomgoes from yellow to blue. End Page 260 Now the little halves of mebegin to rock,impatient to drop downlike pearly seeds. Now I crouch in shadowat the driveway's end,watch his light-framed bodyshudder and lean. Now I stand tiptoeon the top rung,cradling the ache within.Let me in, I cry. Let me see. There must be something herethat belongs to me. End Page 261 Roey Leonardi Roey Leonardi is a poet and writer from South Carolina. Her work has appeared in The Harvard Advocate, Bat City Review, and online in The Atlantic. Copyright © 2024 Pleiades and Pleiades Press