we slide down cobblestone streets,
damp, drunk
she prods her fingers between my stitches.
I coo. I clamber. I fumble. I flounder.
a hole in the wall Jazz Bar, hidden beneath an underpass.
we scamper to purchase liquid courage,
though we've had out fill hours before.
She screams at the man with the metal violin,
a buoyant tune reverberates,
we bounce.
light as a feather, scared stiff as a board.
I fall in the stall and sneak up the steps,
feeling quite like 16 again.
Olly-Olly-Oxen-Free,
I am completely alone in this city.
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