Walk

I slipped my shoes off under a sky stitched with lore; ghazals hummed by ancient stars, and echoes of parrots who remember much more.

They sighed, tired, muffled as they land between the door and the decision 

Still carrying silent ghosts of streets I wasn’t meant to walk with you on 

The earth beneath throbbed with memories 

Damp with stories that moon forgot to say , 

My feet, pale from silence,

meet the ground like a long-lost lover

hesitant. Hungry. Honest.

I walk through this city of dog poop and poetry,

through heartbreak that clings like gum on the sole

Each step, a verse.

Each pause, a prayer.

They say the night listens only to those unguarded, 

I am not polished.

Not paired.

Not walking to arrive

I walk to remember what I was before.

Shoes off. Truth on. I try not to remember 

But I walk. And think of your walk

Those feet under your feet many miles ago

And now, still yours.