Just another morning
when twilight reaches my windows.
The days and I darken.

To enjoy the sun with strangers,
we walk in unacknowledged silence.
We have the same warm skin
but to bring it up would be weird.

When we fill the street
is it correlation or causation
that the sun joins us?

They always fade;
I would like to make it to four in the morning
with the warmth remaining.

Strangers pass,
all warm,
if only from our own blood,
but to bring it up would be weird.