Late morning on a weekday A cold wind blows through the empty city streets Cement pores constricting under my feet Skyscrapers an even cooler shade of grey The sky a bright denim named Winter b l u e s
Orifices misting from internal h e a t meeting cold My hands jammed into puffy sherpa pockets Keeping warm I found myself walking in a h a z e towards 9th avenue 21st street, automatic F l i g h t to brick & mortar, when s t u c k
A heavy glass door o p e n s Black snake skin boots crossing through B r e a t h of oxygen Curated space, solid structure Rise Repeat into gallery floors Down the heart of Chelsea Allowing auras, voices of creators to s e e p Into my mind Melted jelly bean boundaries Collapsing into square mason e m o t i o n s Releasing in the q u i e t
An ache throbbing Enveloping like a familiar body Displaced Monarch again
Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole 