a hand, chilled, speeding above the street
I feel nothing
but a voice -- a breath – and –
a hand

there's that heat, that wind, there's lightning
there's the wheels, that rumble, there's vroom
there's that music, that lyric, there's singing

I feel nothing
but a voice -- a breath – and –
a hand, chilled, speeding above the street

three streets left
I wish were fifteen
there's my exit
I feel nothing
not a voice -- not a breath -- I've lost

my hand

but the hours to come
are only one color that is free

2001