and silent grey streaks of rain stripped down from clouds like stray sinking serpents and leaned across the horizon

swollen with wind and rainwater, the dizzy trip of the downward curve of your hip, the impossible promises never made from your lips.

my eyes keep catching in the rainfilled gutters and I dodge puddles with quickstep stuttering toetaps that echo in the downtown district and fling themselves reckless and reverbed through empty broadway places

I find faces from old friends smiling down from each fuzzy halo of a streetlight

I skirt each circle of neon on the ground and balance along each shimmer of light, selective and I will

break if I close my eyes

cobblestone maze and if I let lazy eyelids drift just so, the corners blur and become curves and remind me of you.