your glasses slip down
the bridge of your nose
and your slender hands
turn pale around the steering wheel.
i wonder what you do
when you are alone,
what you think about as you
drive aimlessly
through the city and
through my mind.
i wonder if your presence here
was premeditated or
a happy accident
like those days when you
drive wherever feels right.
i want to know how similar
the contents of you are
to myself, and
i want to know the processes
and the dreams
and the fears
behind those frames,
behind those eyes
that you hide.
to you, im cool
but to me you are
a mystery;
you are pandoras box
and im the willing fool
whose curiosity got the best of them.