stream of lights
every night just as it gets a little dark, i drive home after work and i’m greeted by a line of yellow lights, and green, and gold and red. humankind had genius in creating streetlights.
lately, soviet kitsch has been in my car’s cd player, and regina sings–people are just people like you, some days aren’t yours at all. the traffic keeps flowing and the trees darken against the blueblack sky. i think about meeting people who tell me things like “you seem like someone i could get along well with.” and then i have too much fun with my thoughts. and all bleary in the morning still wondering where you are, and why, and why can’t we meet again to see if it would be alright. and by alright, i mean maybe i could actually be myself around you.
but at the same time, i like this free feeling and respect from friends and other faces, and every morning it gets clearer, or maybe, just the few steps in front of me get closer. it’s good to grow up, though not too much.