An observation of what one would hear thru thin apartment walls |
Thru The Wall I never knew what language they used their voices muffled thru the wall their tone was clear, without words I understood it all nonetheless They'd argue and yell, with nowhere to run poverty & insecurity forced them to accept each other's jabs no matter how damaging They, too involved to be objective I heard, as observer, at a safe distance, all that kept them together I heard, thru the walls, what was between them even they couldn't have known what it was I only noticed its effects when it seeped through the drywall, punched pinholes through the wallpaper just to ooze all over him and I as we laid together in my bed "Shhh, just listen" he said. "Can you feel it?" Thru the wall, their laughter wove tightly into the melody and their heartbeats leapt up out of the drums I heard the echoes of the love they shared through the records of reggae they played and even though I couldn't see them I always imagined them dancing quebradita Holding tightly to each other in perfect synch with the dancehall beats Thru the wall, I believed the lyrics told their stories and celebrated the sparkle of her eyes and the strength of his shoulders and the contentment of those moments As he tenderly twirled her around their own private bed, 'no vacancy', 'no kitchenette', one room slice of heaven on the corner of Melrose and Wilton. I heard her sobbing and pleading the night they took him away Her muffled fear and tears and prayers for a few weeks after I felt the pounding of the nail, attaching the eviction notice to her door I heard it all, thru the wall but I never heard their reggae records again |