The men are performing in the streets
They are dancing
with wires in their coat
frozen in time
Like a shot in a familiar film
from another space and time
I am not here
my eyes are dulled and edged with fear
of dipping across a wrong line
My legs feel heavy with guilt at every step
for beating a pulse
without an echo
I steal a glance at my companions
each with their heart that frames another face
in another space
and I wonder how they seem to shuffle time
as though
the faces hold no iron
As though they are completely free
As though
I am performing on the street
Dancing with wires in my coat
Frozen in time.