gaps cont.

We rarely touch each other.
As daily streams in streets do thicken,
seams still seem to be held strong.
We twist and flow beyond ourselves
like oil
amid water.

Sometimes, a retaining wall
might stumble into tangles
of dancing green leaved vines.
A grudging cavort erupts for just 
a while, before settling
of the voids
that wrap us tightly.

There will be no battle here.
We coexist, roughly,
quietly
as cloud and sky sails past