Everyone’s a stranger at night-

That’s what I love about the city at midnight
everyone’s a stranger
walking past people under the just dim enough streetlights
and seeing the drunken glaze of their eyes
makes you wonder what brought them here tonight
and what they’re going home to
if they’re going home at all.

The night swallows everyone’s identity up and
we remain strangers until the sun rises again.
Maybe that’s why the moon knows so many secrets
it’s easier to confess behind a curtain
easier to cry into a room full of strangers
easier to whisper into the forgiving darkness
as soon as it’s out of your mouth, it’s gone
swallowed up by the black blanket of night.
Where everyone is just anonymous enough to feel alright.