Past midnight you're peeking
Your neighbor's open window shades
Saw a man crouched on the hardwood
On his knees and elbows splayed
Like an offering an altar call reordering
The story of our origin
Some primal thing
An elemental shame

There's a light on in the darkness
To an unfurnished apartment
And a mattress on the ground
There's a woman standing upright
Like some archangel alighting
In the nighttime and before her
There's a man with hands and ankles bound

And we don't need the sound
To know the plot of the film
Angles switching in between her and him
Captions bracketed the language of skin

Cut to a room past midnight

Frame the camera
On two lovers' conversation
Where they promised to be open
And be honest with themselves
About their bodies' inclinations
And the systems that replace
The very fiber of their beings
With a shame they're made to feel
They've always felt

And there's quiet on the set
Except the ceiling fan there turning
Throwing sound in all directions
There's a process of unlearning

There's a tension when he says
Sometimes I think of you with strangers
When I lie awake at night afraid in bed

With or without me to watch or to stand at the edge
Where your back is a bridge
And the distance it spans
Goes from me to some man
Goes out from an old familiar country
To some uncharted land

And you're peeking through the curtain
To a naked man deserted
And a mattress on the ground

To apartments still unfurnished
And indulgences unburdened
There's a figure disappearing
With a briefcase through the front door
In the crowd

Man with hands and ankles bound
Man with hands and ankles bound
Man with hands and ankles bound
Man with hands and ankles bound

And we follow her out of the house
Then pull it back widen the shot
Lose her inside of the crowd
Then go black

But leave the sound in to carry it out
The last act
While credits roll down the crowd
And now bring the houselights back