The Absolute Certainty Hidden in the Uncertain

New starust slicks the shingles

On the ancient roof of the shed

Where a couple of souls lie to clean

Their greying teenage bodies.

The streetlight turns off at

Half past ten,

I see someone that I wish I looked like and I hope she is living a perfect life with the right body and doesn’t have to stay up as late as I do in order to feel things and doesn’t even know about me or what I do while I wait for things t

After dusk, we become paranoid. Our brains, primed for hyperactive pattern seeking by millennia of evolution, can't help but tell us that that noise downstairs was an intruder, or maybe even something worse...