slipping

my mind finds small corners to rest, when the day is too long, and my fortifude falls to short, i kiss the concrete, with inhalations of smoke and tears, my arms limp, beside my movement, walkin in the black of a mood, that swims over me, lost in the thoughts, that aren’t black and white, that aren’t coffee stained, more black and blue, and i drift into the fog of everyday routines, never knowin which way i can go, til i slip…