Eventually it's just you
not really trying to decide.
Partitions of rain shroud the
heavy summer days
making them subdued, as if there's more
night outside rather than less.
Every time I do this
it's vague, trying to pilot the action
walking in the back streets
under cover of darkness
but that's not so terrible
if we've been programmed that way
forgetting we’ve taken each other’s
souls, the other side, projected from our eyes.
Maybe a bit of time goes by, you wouldn’t
know yet what I’m talking about.
You wouldn't have to wonder.
It wouldn't mean that much.
