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Tell me a story
I love the quiet. Hate the lonliness.
as the snow smokes from my roof
When all the lights go out
when the moon reflects off
bounces a few trillion times on blank tired surfaces.
Hate to watch this alone.
I wonder what you watch
when your eyes catch the slip between task and tedium
where do you lounge
is it warm there?
are you smiling without some subtle reference
among a room full of strange friends
or just friendly strangers?
Do the lights dance like epileptic stars
or does the sun beat against your cacao skin?
Wherever it is
can I stay there?
