Behind the glass

Been standing at this window,
watching you gaze at me.
You place your palm on the glass
and I put mine against it.
We talk and talk till
common sense tells us we must leave;
that you must work and I must study.
But always we come back to our glass,
to share our smiles,
share our stories, until the one day you ask
why I stand always on this side.
And I reply, a little sadly, that its safer here;
behind the glass.