I open my window, leaning
on the handrail.
Outside the city is sleeping,
past midnight.
A soft breeze is blowing,
with a promise of spring;
a time that comes knowing
that we will still be in.
I stare outside wishing,
I could be there
down the streets, running,
by the river, dancing,
in a loud room, kissing
strangers I have just met,
taking them home just to forget
their names as soon as they are gone.
I wish I could be out
when no one is in the streets,
I wish I could be out,
feel the coldness of the stone under my feet.
I wish I could be out,
the rain soaking me through,
I wish I could be out,
and do the things we cannot do.
