I follow the dots

The city spots

They move like a snake

As somethings are found

Hidden as if in dreams

As if a story unfolds

And it is not yearning

But a slice of me

Shining like a star

And there is life

Since I know what it is

To give in

To the city lights

Where the circus dreams

Of blue waters.

Not the time.

It was 11:30 on a wednesday

The throngs of crowds began

Their movements

Like red ants

Pacing impatiently

In an energetic loneliness

There lungs strapped around their hearts

Muscles straitening after a great limping

In a schizo like march

The masses made their way to lunch.

Good to be me.

I followed her maze

Always pointing to her

Jabbing at me

And finally bringing me back

Back to myself

My friend.