He watched her through the window from across the street.
Her clothes looked sleek,
her hair fell gracefully,
Each movement's meaning, oblique.
He studied her.
Made extensive notes
on her clothes -
when she'll wear lilac
and when she'll wear mauve.
He learned her by rote.
Sunday mornings she'd come back from the gym.
Throw her kit on the bed,
Return, wearing a towel instead,
And he'd be waiting, watching, smiling -
he knew it was all for him.