SHOES

by Livio Farallo

falling

out of streetlights are

white brushes

that paint

the pavement.

wetness

accelerated

by the slow steps

of a woman

with chain-strap

purse

swung on two fingers.

the little scraping echoes

of heels on gravel,

little tastes of solitude

that urge you

to,

at least,

wonder her name

in this

immediate night.