Outside
Watching you watching me. You’re not watching me, though, you’re watching yourself talk, standing in front of that big mirror above the fireplace in your back room. Practising? That’s the way you hold your head in lectures, the way you wave your hand for emphasis. God, you’re so VAIN. I love it.
This is all about you.
I know you were looking at me earlier in the seminar. The others would kill me if they knew how close we are. But I understand you better than all of THEM.
Sometimes you walk so fast it’s hard to keep up. I manage, though, on your tail, all the way back to your house. It’s a challenge. Quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow. Sometimes you stop altogether, like you want me to catch up.
You want me to know where you live. Why else would you wait?
I need to be alone with you. I can’t concentrate when there are too many people around. It’s better when I’m here, outside. Looking in at you like this, nothing else to distract me.
It’s peaceful here, surrounded by leaves. I like that you’ve left it all so wild, a special corner just for me. You want me to be here, keeping you company, waiting for my time to come inside.