My eyes are closed
All I can see are my thoughts in neon blotches
That's our sixth sense
It's not quite sight, not quite hearing
Thinking
He's searching for feeling
As he steps out in the middle of night
Aim toward nowhere
Just out on a concrete paved way
All he sees are drops of light falling
in a backdrop of darkness
Falling faster than his vision can follow
He's searching, always searching
But he's just standing there
Not going anywhere but there
All he can do is feel the rain seep through his clothes
Into his every pore
This more real than anything else inside
Concrete, light, night and rain
The wetness weighs him down
He shrinks into fetal position
He feels his wetness
As he dissolves among the tiny gray peaks of the sidewalk
