windows down
summer air moistening my skin
relieving my daily sins
or reliving...
I love driving past golden lit windows
& imagine strangers comfortably inside
soaking in what is sacred
(to them)
but at the same time...
I also imagine their demons
as I'm sure ours could dance together
under any weather
unless we sever the tether
that connects the heart to the mind
to do that I'd need more time
lessons aren't learned in a day
I'm too curious for my own good
and you know what they say
it could **** me
but it's tasty and thrills me
curiousities are my being...
curious about how the world sees me
while simultaneously
telling myself I live entirely carefree
(but that's untrue)
you're a stranger to me
and you're a stranger to you
I'm not interested enough
to be interested in loving you
learning you
I've gotta trust you...
but
I'll first trust the golden light of a stranger's home,
and until that changes,
my demons dance alone.