I walk in socks
unwilling to wake
the sleeping
as I pass the window
showing multiple images,
of myself,
distorted and untouchable,
in the blackened night.

It is easy
to slide quietly
between the pains
of glass
and into that darkness
where my regrets
leave an untouchable
mark.

I can stay in the shadows
as long as the moon
is on my side
and keeps
his hands
to himself.