Everyday believers,
habit creatures.
Swimming in silk and
holding down the receiver
all shaking from the speakers.
Toes gripping harder in
tune with the bass,
nose to nose, eye to eye
tongue to ear to face.
Dark lines, white lines,
dripping and drying and
laying in ink, yours and mine.
Everyday believers,
habit creatures.
A song behind the papers.
Ground littered.
***** snow and window fog,
the four walls all painted
over and over and over.
Old town.
Loud street.
Everyday believers,
habit creatures.