What made me so comfortable with watching sunsets
through grime stained windows
while others sat on porches,
stood on sandy shores, and
laid on rooftops with someone, other or, close to a lover?

Was it the city and the grip of my nine to five? Or maybe

I could not stand being alone with myself
in the presence of something so beautiful,
a star, so close to me-

Did fear I’d grow bored?

Nature is one of those things for me, things like saying,

“I’ve tasted honey before
but I don’t like it much.”
Yet I wouldn’t tell that to someone who found it so sweet.

So when they ask me if I’ve ever had honey,
I will just say “yes I have.” and then I will ask for sugar in my tea.

Sunsets may be like that.
One may be enough for me…

Or maybe I haven’t yet gotten to know her.

As in,
if there’s a personality worth getting to know behind the beauty of it all…
something warmer than the surface…
something to make me stay…
I think I’d watch a thousand.