Like seen on tv
Her foot lifts slowly from the curb
slides forward towards the street
an arc is established and plotted
red curls spring, shimmer and dance
everything transpires in frozen time
only as this cold, january day will
allow
brown suede, black leather, it doesn't
matter
it's just a subjective, mortal
preference in the re-tell
cars in motion, drivers at rest
abide the lights and watch the girl
daughter of darwin, a ghost of
happenstance
float like a tryst of poetics, jazz,
existentialism
the click-click-click, those sharpened
metal-tipped heels
on cold, innocent concrete, assassins
are kinder
the aesthetics of perfection, the space
between
adam strives but must fail to touch his
god
the light turns green. nothing moves.
the gun
in the third act is yet to be
brandished and fired
the temporal nature, conditioned to
watch only
as life pauses and smiles, then turns
and walks briskly away
click-click-click-click-click-click