Fragile

It’s taken a while but I’m still
taking time out everyday
to slide my middle fingernail
along the marble railing
containing the overlook
that hangs above that corner
of downtown.
The world is still around
like the awkward wallflower
of the universe waiting centuries
for someone just to talk to it.
I’ve always fought with it
just like a shadow cast on canvas
I keep jumping in the deep end
wasting time on being caught up
in the past, but that’s the only way
these things can ever last.
It’s mostly nothing but bad deals
and plastic signs rewired bright
so you can see them from the highway,
and delay your destination for tomorrow.
I always ask if I can borrow
your collection of glass fingerprints
so I can project a sense of ownership
as just an exercise.
You never say yes and I don’t blame you,
who would want to risk something
that clear and that fragile, over me?
And if they ever do break,
from some unexpected accident,
in the future when you’re far off
from expecting it, I hope you’ll
think of me and offer up the fragments
on a dinner plate so I can push them
all around a bit and examine
how they hold in all their light.