there is no reason for me to
but I keep returning,
aria doesn't know
but I think she's suspecting.
she asks me today
whether I liked the ocean
I'm proud
so I say,
"nah, it was too dreary."
"sure, sure." she says,
a playful smile stretching
across her face.
I take her to my favourite place in the city
and she raises both eyebrows
(because she can't raise one)
and exclaims, "your taste is horrible, laura."
she leans against the railing
and looks down at the sea of people
"what's so good about the terrace of your building?"
she gestures at the pigeon droppings and the many cable wires,
the empty boxes and discarded glasses.
I make a sour face and argue back,
"if my building was higher, it could have been an observation deck."
aria rolls her eyes and looks away,
as I imagine her returning her everyday,
without me ever knowing of it.