Shadow Pugilist - June Of 44

You will never know

How I let you slip through my hands

Maybe it will come to blows

There’s nothing to understand

All the time you drift along

Too high, too afraid to come down

Shadow riding, you fall

The elongated light makes you topple down

Transistor radio

A makeshift bookshelf

A photograph of a girl buried in sand up to the neck

Wearing sunglasses, smiling

You whisked yourself away in a cab down Broadway

The cab went 'round a corner

Each step away from the curb

Unmeasurable by a sextant

The face of a constellation

Connecting the dots with lines

To make your memory

All the time you drift along

Too high, too afraid to come down

Shadow riding, you fall

The elongated light makes you topple down