3.8.17 – Ankle-d
I tried to share the sidewalk without all the bumps and crashes of a distracted pedestrian. There was a bit more purpose to my grey crossing and I was off spotting for all the absences of people so that I might slide through a little bit easier. It was easy to misplace the time with all the towers casting shadows and acting as strong blinds to a soft sun. I’d wandered about at the giants’ toes hoping that there might be other bones to climb on and pretend we were still strewn among the trees of a child’s backyard. Some towns had enough roots trying to break through that thick skin that it made the curves and crests of a space eager to be ran upon.
We were living on a hill and enjoying all the steps and cutouts of a city trying desperately to fit squarely on a round. I was fan of falling between those landings and making tumbles of my own; there was the brief period of empty air that existed only once you’ve leapt off a stair, a small frame that lacked any hard edges. Like cutting through those crowded streets, I’d look for those seconds without nudges from the unmovable. Concrete had a tricky touch, rough and looking to stick to the skin in a way that left traces on both. We kept our agreements brief and with soles between.
An unbroken chain traveled from my front door and through downtown in a lopping sort of line that would have mirrored the marks of a child practicing cursive. There was a desire to find the end of the string that pulled my hips along and brought about that feeling of flow. It was a surreptitious dance on the streets that was slight enough to be ignored as long as I didn’t find a heavy stop against a body or against the spine of the city. We wanted to find the paths with twists and turns that held no resistance to our flight and let us move forward through the tangles of a busy world.