The woman from work

I pass by your
apartment
every
day
I've been in that
apartment
A studio
12 feet long
6 feet wide
with
a little kitchen off
to the
side
I can't imagine
living there
You got a deal
you say
You say
because the building
plumbing comes
through your apartment
your rent is
reduced
You are a martyr
I see it
every
day
A victim
Even now
during
summer vacation
you are at school
doing
work
though there is
no work to do
Your classroom
is
bigger
than your apartment
so in some ways
I don't blame you
I could not
live like a monk
or a nun
or a prisoner
I could not
live like you
You have chosen
this
I know
You went to Harvard
You were studying
to be
a doctor
It was expected
Your sisters
are all
sucessful
you are just
a teacher
who lives in an
apartment
with only a small
bed
on the floor
one chair
and six silk
pillows
one small
window
facing the busy street
where I walk by
You were engaged to
be married
A nice man
Handsome
Successful
Just like you
were going to be
And then
he killed himself
a week before
the wedding
and now you live alone
and dress in men's
clothes one day
then a tight
skinny black
dress with high
heels the next
At night
You eat take out
or walk down
the street
to Chinatown
to eat at your
favorite Korean
restaurant
Kim chee
and barequed pork
and fermented
soybean paste
a bowl
of rice
You are not happy
you told me
every
day
in one way
or another
but then one day
you told me you
were taking
anti-depressants
you hugged me then
you never
hug
anyone
and I smelled
the cigarettes you
secretly smoke
and the Lysol
you spray yourself
with to hide
that you
are sad
and smoking
and living
in an apartment
like a monk,
or a nun,
or a prisoner
When I walk
by
I wonder
are you in there?
Are you looking out
right now through
your one small window
hugging one of your
six silk pillows
smoking? Listening to
the rattle of the pipes
from the man
who lives above
you in his
two bedroom apartment
with a view
of the city
and the water
just beyond?
Are you?

I pass by
your apartment
every day
And I cannot
help but think
of your
tiny space
your medication
scattered on the
kitchen counter
next to your
cigarettes
and Lysol can
and your keys to
school
I see you
lying on the
bed resting
on the carpeted
floor
I see you
sinking
shriveling
under the
weight of
your choices
your black dress
lying on top
of your suit and tie
like lovers
and I walk by
just then
and wonder