Buildings seem shadows
(surrounding)
closing like doors
corners of a soul

Not as the flower breaks it's back
for the Sun,
or as the river is dragged
by Earth's grip,
but as the heart beats,
and the blood bubbles.

Working man raises rough hand;
Passes new wrinkle
fears,
"how long has this been here?"

Digital man
breathes on my neck
while my feet flick
spokes of the wheel