Paperbacks Skinny Sidewalks
Take me walkingthrough the streets outside my door.
Show me something
that I've never seen before
past the margins
of abbreviated stares
that reduce all objects
to a scroll of passing fare.
Cut through alleys,
relieved of what they mean
in the musty archives
of childhood memory.
Entire sections
of the city at this time
become deserted.
I have no idea why.
Skinny sidewalks
taper off
to small ellipses
and unclear stops.
A hidden city
comes to light
on skinny sidewalks.
Your dorsal tattoo
expands with every breath.
The pale cilia
on your belly trembles when
we speak in sleepy,
dehydrated monotones,
the drowsy discourse
of cartographers at home.
Skinny sidewalks
taper off
to small ellipses
and unclear stops.
A hidden city
comes to light
on skinny sidewalks.
The final strains of light
that creep through broken blinds
make patterns on your face.
Tiny little lines
that slowly intertwine
until they fade away.
I want to know you, I want to know you.
All there is to know.
You've always been here, You've always been here.
Walk with me along skinny sidewalks...
taper off
to small ellipses
and unclear stops.
A hidden city
comes to light
on skinny sidewalks.