Black squares pulled at the soles of my shoes.
Brick-red fake bricks
wrapped serpentine around cement beams
glazed and shimmering with epoxy and daylight
s
hone white on the left half a bedraggled face.
The other half smirked,
sitting cross-legged under a wall-less window
eating carrot sticks with chopsticks.

The dust in my eyes, in the blank between us
pervaded pore and nostril,
bourgeoning the ache of a flaying respite,
with the fire of a thousand minute needles
and the diaphragm-tugging grip of "come closer."