one by
one how they glide
On the edges of my eyes
on the ends of my fingertips
Blurry figures that just
blur by in
Black coats
Busy and
bustling
Those footsteps
that stride
Are they yours?
The. doors fly open and shut
And I just sit here looking down
Not daring to look up
In hopes that perhaps
Perhaps
You will come by looking for me
And take me home.
I
