You are pacing this floor

With eyes far away

Cursing the 400 miles of rain-soaked and glistening asphalt

Standing between you

And your heart

It lies between threadbare sheets somewhere in Queens

Where the floorboards shudder

as subway cars growl and rush downtown.

And I am pacing these sidewalks counting cigarette butts and old receipts

Dodging the puddles

Ignoring the ghost synchronizing its steps with mine

And you’ll find me singing

In the morning

To ward off those drifting whispers, small shivers that wear me out before I’ve begun.