Cool air, post-dusk air
A rambling mind sees the sky as black,
incessant black.
Drawn from the periphery to the center
a tingly blue.
I don't want to be afraid of you,
man with the swaggering walk
arm bones loose like jellyfish tentacles
your silhouette softened by your vulnerability
your gait so perplexing I can't tell
if you're walking away or towards me
My eyes play tricks
with your tortuous intoxicated path,
backwards,
forwards
I slow
I stop
I am still.
