When a new neighbor moves in it seems each house seems to buzz wanting to take a new look at the house, at the lawn, at the people. A sense of friendly neighbor feeling comes over everyone. But it was different for me this time. I knew her and maybe I hadn’t exactly been thrilled. But walking to her front door from my backyard in the cool grass and dry November air I felt nervous. And when she opened the door I think for the first time in a long time, perhaps even ever, I saw her. I saw her freckles and how they reached her eyebrows and the way she parts her lips just so naturally. It almost felt like I had stepped into a watermark of a film. ‘It’s not possible’ I say, after all she has a boyfriend. But yet, I find myself going back to her house, everyday after school, late into the night. Never would I dream to break her relationship up but I can’t help but watch her when she dances in her mirror or listen when she  sings almost so beautifully I think that maybe she took the voice of an angel. It’s impossible for me to say that she herself is an angel because what would someone such as an angel want with a broken harp? Is it possible to want to feel the sun beams that come from the cracks of her lips from the suffocating dry air but knowing it’s not possible, would, could, someone not go crazy? Is it an angels job to tempt the lonely or is it a siren? Does it make me a fool to dream to want her or does that make me a king? 
I look at her window from time to time as I walk up my stairs and almost wonder if she is looking back at me. Waiting for me to knock on her door. Heavens door. Can an angel wait for someone like me regardless of who she is committed too? After all, aren’t heaven and hell practically neighbors? 
She may just always remain my neighbor, but perhaps a siren and and angel, and a king and a fool, can meet somewhere in the middle. Heaven and hell may almost be neighbors but there is Earth here in between. And I so wish to kiss her there too. 

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