Lips move in slow motion
as if they were avoiding words.
Underneath a moon
we all look the same;
the streets crawl the same.
I swallowed the one song
that twists my heart.
(streetlights’ choreography
is remixing the flow.)
Drifting on wheels
were accidents meet
and ignite the loose ends
that we always
skip.
© Barith Ball, November 2012
Vi ses!
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