Beneath wet cover lids
and tighty nighty whities
and roof tops and sweat shops and lovers
I see you.

From past the oakly orchards
and city scrapping skies
and desert rocks and cacti
I watch you.

In bathtub in shower
In rain or in traffic
In elevators and staircases
I follow you.

When you let the clerk keep the change
When you tip the waiter a bit too much
When you drop a dime and don't pick it up
I even things out.

I've never hurt a clerk, or waiter, or child,
Nor have I killed them painlessly.
I just take back what once was yours,
And make it ours.

We will need all the money we can get
As we jump counties, states, countries, continents,
Escaping authority. They may not understand,
and you might not either.

Still, we will go off together.
You and I. Until then,
I watch you, I see you, I follow you,
You have no choice but to be mine. You already are.