art-time-collective

Niche

The rain had let up not too long ago;
The city was taking an exaggerated, porous breath.
I crossed at the lights; a courtesy wasted on an empty street.
A million imperfections dotted the soaked tarmac,
Like taste buds on a tongue,
Savouring the dirt amid the traction of my boots.

The last few hours were a blur of questionable decisions.
Coloured lights, stale residues, and hollow interactions,
All still on me, in me, or burned onto my retinas;
One of those nights that has you at its mercy.

I remember someone calling me handsome,
And as I caught my reflection in a tinted window,
I wondered whether I was— and where I was, as well.
I guess on a night like this, it doesn’t really matter.

Soon enough, the city turned back on,
Car after car, taking to the streets;
Blood-cells through dilated vessels,
Headlights harsh on dew-dampened roads,
Like upturned exclamation marks,
Punctuating the arrival of the dawn.

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This is my first post…  be gentle.

–ioni [kaleidoscopeflux.blogspot.com]

Filed under: verse