with you a stranger i prefer to remain

for strangers are well dressed

and well they smell nice, most of the time

i mean at least the ones you like

you don’t have to see them before they get dressed for the day

see their plucked eyebrows growing out, slowly, day-by-day

their insecurities their quirks are their own

so is their morning breath

and you don’t have to mourn their death

or their going away

their walls are not yours to adorn

you don’t have to be the best artist they’ve ever known

and they’re always more interesting, their musings

you imagine, are always about things less mundane

their jokes more witty, their actions more sane

their hair more smooth

their skin more tempting to the touch

and you don’t have to see their

daily use underwears

faded at the crotch