smoky city

i know how many steps up the stairs it takes, the distance to the street, the number on your door, the way to the fire escape. i wonder if i could recognize you in some setting, in some bodies other than these.
i can't tell the difference between hot and cold anymore. the city smelled smokey, i swear winter is being burned away, not soon enough will we shed our winter skins, for it is hardening and tightening around our chests, our eyelids, our lips, so that we cannot feel the brushing fingertips