Won’t you open up the window?

She stares at the universe from her small window every night with a yen to converge with every star, fondle with every space and cling to every moon. She took her sheepskin rug which obtunded her soul and absorbed her fears and placed it near her window at a view more divergent. Her face was almost gleaming as if the moonlight had already kissed her. Eyes full of fantasies, heart so fierce and mind full of scars she sat there with her chin resting on her knee, oblivious of what universe lies within her. She raised her hand and stretched her palm out along the window. With wind sweeping through her soft skin she grew tranquil and free. She felt as if window is the only obstacle. ‘Won’t you open up the window? Won’t you break through it for a whole universe?’ She asked herself and slept unanswered.