Winter air, door handle cold to the touch, a spark in the dark and the soft thud and click as the rubber seal meats the frame and the front seat air is still again, and as we start to move everything is right... a smooth polished whisper that sweeps thru the night.
mirror image of shades drawn, fuzzy neon glow of the late night bodega awnings, bent, reflected off the window ,the whole scene played out in reverse projected on the glass, bouncin off the slick black of the tints. slide thru the hood on top of the world. slow ride, second gear down the ave. dark shadows in the doorways only spotted by the steam of their breath , snow crunches under the tires....insulated , laid back in a silent warm ....
behind my eyes it will never die...the dream lives on...memories of late night nodds...in and out as i fade , sweatin, hot, stretched out , itching and the snow falls outside, the breeze , the draft comin in thru the open window and im just fine...wakin up a half hour later, shake my head and strain to keep my eyes open long enough to finish the last shot.
so wrapped up in my own mind, deep , back farther, my whole body smiles and i sink back into the sheets, breathless, heavy in the chest, slow heart beats , thick like molasses oozin thru my veins... damn, you should feel this... black and white flicker across the back of my minds eye...ohh, its the realest...
conversatin with the devil at the foot of my bed, echoes of my thoughts, did i say it out loud, is it all in my head.... i dont even know...ohh, to be back on the block, glidin thru the night, cuttin a path thru the chill air , slicin open the heart of the city, ride a line cut straight over the belly, tracin a scar on the pavement...and im back, and im in bed, wait im cruisin with the seat leaned, my eyes are closed and im stopped at the red light not a police in sight, shake awake and im back in the bed, nowhere but here, back home instead...switch back and forth between worlds ride that fine line, seconds is hours just moments in time...
fight thru the waves of heaviness weighting me down, sand from the hourglass of time i got left, struggle to the surface and light a cigarette. gaze into the dark, freezing vapor fills my lungs and every bead of sweat hit with a cool carress of winter chill. siiiigh.....i been holdin my breath, but its aight...watchin the smoke trail out over the silver glow of the snow, quick to blow away, evaporate into the sky, quick shadow cast on the icey stars...and the fan whirs in the window, always on, the sound of the blades choppin the air fills my night, quiet, back on the block the sound is the shuffle of a deck of cards...
the tide comes in, the tide comes out, chest rises and falls to the raggedy slow-mo rhythm of a medicated set of lungs at rest; travelin over the days events i slowly drift , and my always anchor watchin from the window sill, resting with me runnin till the light of day takes away the spell. but for now, its just us , me my shadow and , you my little window fan....
ya Bru
