When I walk down the street at night,
I like to look into your windows.
I guess I just want to know who you are.
I love the way your lights shine through the panes,
the way your books are aligned on your shelf,
the way you cook in your kitchen,
the intimacy of it all.
I don’t know who you are,
but I always wonder.
Who are you talking to?
What is your love?
Who do you call your family?
And most of all, what are you cooking for dinner?
I wish I could knock on your door and invite myself into your living room
just for the night
so that I knew what it was like to be you.