On the Boulevard

The night's orange and there are shadows everywhere. The dog stares into my heart, and the heart is black and the dog a shadow. I stare at the orange streetlamps, and my shadow takes me by surprise. There are assassins at my back, I turn around and no one's there. Shadows. Everywhere. Billie sings broken songs and he's a shadow. I'm a shadow. A shadow none but my shadow can see. He's the only one that walks beside me on the boulevard. But that's lame. The shadow screams. I sing like a mirror. Read between the lines, he says. The assassins stare as I pass them by, lip-syncing with the shadow. I walk on. And then, it tunnels through me. All crimson orange. I smile. It's cold. Everything is cold.