sometimes i like to walk through the city
alone in the night
i like to look into the windows
and imagine what it would be like to live there
to live a different life
in a different home

suddenly i feel warm and cozy inside
comforted by my vague waking dreams
of briefing seeing through the eyes of others
inside a place that's both foreign and new
but also familiar

of course,
i wouldn't want to truly swap places --
the fantasy is always better
than the reality

but i do like to imagine myself
floating through their houses and apartments
as a disembodied spectator,
a ghost
observing other lives

short conversations about nothing in particular
brief glances between a couple
soft purple lights glowing
glowing beside a luxurious glass balcony

somewhere,
a young girl hunched over her desk
late at night
in her bedroom,
the starry night and the blocky
black silhouette buildings
can be seen from the tall window to the left of her desk,
the only light in the room is her desk lamp

she is writing, writing
all alone in this world
but no
she isn't lonely
she's lost in her own world of dreams
and i'm watching
but only for a moment