On the sidewalk, do you wonder
after the blurred woman whose path
interlaces with yours down to the subway?
Might she be the sort who scours miles of walls,
seeking the bumps and gaps of a secret door?
Imagine––let us leave no corner uncaressed.
She may soon enclose herself in stolen solitude,
standing in a public bathroom
with her palms open against earth-tinted drywall
waiting to catch the pulse of another world.
When your gaze hurries past hers,
do you recognize what you’ve seen?
Her pupils, like twin caves in a cliff face carved wise by the sea,
harbor her retinas, tapestries of seeing machinery
that an ancient chance hand worked into the walls.
Spilling echoed whirring,
they beckon you into worlds yet unseen––
Leave no wall unwitnessed.