around noon on another saturday

Not more than twenty minutes ago I saw a man 

with brown, red-laced boots kicking air

bundled in denim layers to keep out the winter sun

writhing on the corner (alone)

the intersection

of two familiar streets

his boots hanging over the curb

all cars stopped at lights

some of us staring

the red light commanding us to stay

i watched his body lifting and falling

as if his spine were stuck in drying concrete

i calculated how to cross the intersection swiftly 

to help him

but strangely concerned

that

my fuzzy pink coat too silly

especially if

this man is dying

right now.

Sometimes I forget

for a moment

sitting in the sun

thinking about yesterday

wishing for tomorrow

how much love I have

heavy like a duvet.

Don't you just want to

climb underneath and stay warm

your breath sweet like honey

on my neck

the beating of your heart

against my arm

a shaman's drum

let's journey

now.

I want to lick the salt from your skin

again and again and again

hurry now,

the ambulance is on its way.