stairs

I walked down a damp sidewalk and I saw a spiderweb, stretched out to full and catching each drop that fell within its grasp. I heard violin; I smelled you on my shirt; I watched another drop fall to be placed carefully among thousands, a shining connect-the-dots that took on a meaning entirely its own. I traced my tongue along the outline of my lips, taking mental pictures along the way of the places you had left your mark. I left my mind in the crack running down the stairs outside your front door, and I brought the rest of me, useless and hungry, back home.