In the city where silhouettes embrace their
exhalation. Faded logos dance on dull asphalt’s skin. I wander through alleys where laughter’s a burglary. The sun casts long repeating sounds of where I’ve been.

You wear those black Crocs like a throne
of night. Each step is a delicate confidential intoned to stone While I don my stripes a jester in light Chasing the fervor of dreams we have sown.
...