my feet are taking me someplace I don't want to be.

they say
third times the charm but the fourth

is luckier.

traffic is
so pretty at night;
bokeh dance shrouded in black,
cars oscillating forward and back,
so enticingly juvenile are the lights.

at crossroads I
test the waters
concrete ocean;
I can stand on it.
I can almost taste
the blood
in my mouth,

I can almost wash
the blood
off my hands.