It's official, the blond woman opposite
Is an exhibitionist, and her man
(Or maybe just her latest man), he fits
Into that too, curtains always open
And bedroom light on, they embrace, and then
She faces the window, I don't realise
She's not fully dressed at first as I stand
On the balcony smoking, then my eyes
Turn sideways to glance, and to my surprise
I see a black bra briefly as she slips
A top over her head and pulls it down
As soon as this is done, I then surmise
It's time to go back in, it's time to write
This sonnet diary. Thanks, neighbour woman
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