and i spread into the night,
seep into concrete
metal linoleum glass
i am the chipping lead paint and then
i am the cold and the pavement the brittle blue light

i am too scattered.

back in the still darkness i find myself dreaming of the nature of my bones
of the smoothness and the thickness and the beauty.
i listen to the ceiling for the girl upstairs,
to every move she makes in her own small world.