out the window there is a river

noisy

people flow by in the river, drowning, but not asking for help

passing by faster than i can grab

watching, always, but the eyes are switching

there is a full story of what happens behind my window but it is in pieces scattered through every little pearl of consciousness that flies past the window.

someone saw me stretch up, naked, to close my blinds

they could be anywhere

they could be anyone

they could be focused on the road, more endless and winding and bright than i could ever be