there's a woman standing in tight blue
by the edge of the curb
like there's something in her throat 
her cheeks are flushed
the color of a hault 
she looks to be choking
she looks to see if we can tell
she looks down and toys with her fingers
but we keep going
it's only unclear sidewalks 
trash cans with faces etched in
we don't stop for anyone 
sunday my hand was on the light
and I could feel it dancing between my fingertips
a soft threatening pull
a cry to be in darkness
but then I heard my name
and left nothingness
to be uncontrollable