I was rancid with smoke
the night that I fell
at the union between two
mostly barren avenues.
The bump was invisible
that tripped my eyes
from the road to
her scarcely lit face.
There was no connection,
no tie to a memory.
Nothing held us in a grip
except an eerie airy sameness
that could not keep me up,
and instead pushed me down.
The rocky pavement ripped
the skin and I bounced.
I bounced only once
then slid the way home,
but the damage was already
done before the slip
when that unknown young lady
allowed me a reason to fall.
Written 9 December 1998
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