Above Frosted, Unsalted Asphalt
As you stood outside the window on thin ice
One misstep.
That’s all it takes.
A summation of
not-so insignificant steps
negated by failing, just once, to find
footfall’s purchase as
torsion releases beneath heel,
instep, ball, and
all five piggies,
the way forward
yielding to
lateral slide
that would seem fit to pair with slide-whistle
if it weren’t happening to you,
and in that arrested moment
where upswept feet are level
with downward-plunging shoulders,
that pregnant pause where nothing is felt
just before gravity takes full measure
of this impromptu stress test of your
bone density and marrow’s response to bruising,
you recall earlier, how they paused
waiting as you blushed at their blushing at
being caught inside the warm café
leaning into one another’s vibe,
as you stood outside the window on thin ice…
