Spy

I live my life like I'm being stared at by a stranger.

I sleep in short intervals against windows in the upper floors of your tall buildings. The last thing I see before I doze off is you, walking to wherever you're going, feeling unwitnessed, feeling free from scrutiny, and assuming yourself to be solitary in your brief, arbitrary journey to whereverthefuck it is you're going. But I see you. Whether I actually care to or not. Indeed, you make your way into my dreams. Whether I want you in them or not.

This is why I absolutely never feel alone, nor unscrutinized, nor unwitnessed. I've been the spy from too many impossible hiding places, watching over those who feel they share only the company of their thoughts, and I can't shake off the feeling that there are eyes like mine, constantly watching me, even as I watch you. Whether those eyes care to witness me or not. And that my presence will manifest in a dream somewhere. Whether the dreamer wishes it or not.