The walls fold around me
My skirt breaking between my stride
I walk to a picture house that shows new movies and old
And there by the old building, a man sells fresh fruit
Apples fade to a taste of thin-ringed mints
Small but laden well, a pressure compounds; to a tight ball of strength that rolls
I squeeze my eyes to vibrations, but no respite is given to these blue times
And the day fawns over me, entirely
As I stand in a lobby filled with the sweet heat of popcorn