I spend my nights outside
Beneath the luminous stars
That flicker
In a darkness that's both near and far.
The bulbs that burn behind the windows
Of the houses and apartments nearby
Shed light on the lives of the denizens
Therein, they
Dance and they cry
They sing and they scream
They cook food they can afford
Barely seasoned to taste
Behind each window, 
There's a story to read
Upon the weathered faces 
And in the...