Second Hand

I step down from the tiled floor
Out into heavy air
Sidewalk shadows of neon
Lean against a brash brick wall
Side of a steep street
Don't dare look up
Don't feel like that

Suit is light
Collar rather open
Gotta breathe somehow
With all this

I pout and go silent
A big kid when you don't give me my way
You come round the corner to find me so
Look as if concerned
But with that cool agenda
Hand layers the back of my neck
Dripping night

My gaze stays low away
Can't think of the next or the last
Only now when we've won
Final seconds

It's all fantasy to me
In few words
You let me go to draw reality around

Flinch not to offend you
It's the situation
Quick as the hours
Also the unity

Nose nuzzles my cheek

And the night
Not looking up