Thursday, 8 January 2015

somewhere under the sky

i leave off from the traffic, left and then left to stroll past this soft lit boozer i’m fond of, down this still street i’m keen on.  my careful steps crack the silence but never break it; steady, still, step, still. and taller than me, well out of reach, a gelatine glob of light sticking to the street lamp lends the street an underwater feel.  it’s quiet here, and i, diver, deep sea diver, i know this lonely layer of sunken city like the back of the back of my hand, i hold it there in fact:  a soggy little snow dome no one else can see.  i linger here as day-old apathy turns into something very different, i’ll remember this when i’m old, maybe, i think to myself.  glug glug glug, up go the bubbles those silent words were born in, back up to the surface, up above tree tops and chimneys, up to the light polluted skyline of a city that exists inside and outside the known universe.  a kid rides past on his bike, oblivious.  some dog barks, another joins in, and i float on home, left through the alley at the end and back to my busy road and bitter breeze that runs along it.

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