Jazz

[bbcashdollar]

Mid-afternoon as quiet as can be
inside a bustling city, cars telling you
what you forgot
on a high note. Your cheekbones
are my wishing bone, tied
with great care
yet barely, to the reverse end
of my drunken hands. Such giddy
pleasure having you
at mere arm’s length; this crazy
saxophonist bent
double, smuggling last breaths
over the pulsing border.
Light ceases, in between
the gust of wind
has died
beside the blackness of your eye,
the silence now
grows viscose
with defeat.

My first critique, so I'm not sure how useful it will be. the piece opens up with the statement city quiet as can be. Next line, it's bustling car's telling the reader what you forgot. I want to opportunity to discover what's forgotten in the piece. As first, I read cheek bones as wishing bones, as a sweet allusion, but wishbones are to be broken to get what you want. Further down, doubled over, gasping for breath, blackened eye. It seems there was a fight. The details are intriguing, but, I'm distracted, by the silence, the wind, the quiet city how are they are part of creating this experience? There seems to be a lot there, maybe more than one story.