To a Stranger

Good morning, stranger.
Shadows of lace
Fall upon my face
Like they used to gleam
Upon yours, I have not yet seen,
As I sit on your window sill
You remain still
A stranger.
 
Good day, stranger.
Looking at your flute
I would never play
I imagine mute
Music of smoke, indigo and gray,
Spreading across the ceiling
And you sitting
Right in front of me.
What more can you be
Than a stranger.
 
Good evening, stranger.
I've ripped all of my stockings
Sitting on your chair.
Night before the bell rings
A desire to share
Overtakes, leaving me with no chance
To remain unknown.
One should never dance
In a room alone
With a stranger.
 
Good night, stranger.
I'm a passer by
Listening to a lullaby
Of the road, as if sang by you,
I never heard or knew.
What dreams would you see
If you'd lie with me
Like a stranger.
 
Good morning, stranger.
For so long you have been away,
As you enter, you say:
"Good morning, stranger."