I sense traffic's vitality
anticipating movement,
to glide across streets
where caustic lights
circle around...
[ in ominous words
of striking red-
caution ]
Late afternoon,
counting time
on my closed wrist,
he should be next to me.
I do not shrink
from the curb
as rain pelts down,
the shower un-knots
my resistance.
Who needs truth
from tints of atmosphere
when there are skies
speaking....lingering?
He knocks his shadow
into my twisted side,
as I fly like vapor
from my dry, curled heart
unto a jewel softly penning.
So cool to my lips,
he brings life to my eyes
underneath a blank body,
I understand an essence
of being brought from
a narcissist's puddle.
