Beginning to Rain

pass
underneath my arm
relaxed;
my leg
unstable,
and the sound
of evening
bombarding
with beeps and whistles
my eardrums
covered
now
by my fingers
cold
from a winter
without gloves,
and mittens
of shirts
much too long
much too thin-
wandering
on my knuckles,
broken
on the floor;
pavement
of cigarettes
that we
have never smoked
mixing with the vapor
escaping
from my chapped
lips
searching
for your
words.