Alexander & Gore

contusions of my self
in the reflections on the street
connected at the feet
for underneath
there are secrets
that we keep
and fates we all will meet
the pavement warm and ridden
with elite
senses
tell tales of excellence
in the year of 1924
booming towers
women selling flowers
in the place we feel deceit
flick your hand
underneath
and onto
looking left and then right
we are waiting