surry hills

sunday morning slap in the face across the street haphazardly jay walking black boots over dirty white lines inclined to take an incline in a rush cigarette and everything at once periphery my downfall and you're against a door always one foot in the door the same jacket i wore and gave back before the the words you couldn't take back my hair's close to on end lip between teeth my eyes look anywhere but at you always thin ice and i don't want it to crack you crack a smile - so familiar - my lips are numb no man's land i hesitate