another fight on the street below,
they’ve got things to prove.
shouting threats and sending out a counterglow.
all they do is walk, talk, knit socks, wind clocks
and crawl on their bellies like a reptile.
i have no idea at all…
i hear a sound…
we talk of parks and simple places,
sense the thickness of the air.
highly strung like nervous guitars
my fingers make waves in you.
we’re afraid to call it love,
let’s call it swimming…