wondering on sunny Tuesdays

here, they mingle
saunter, and sway
these faces, known
these memories, gray
tho smudge-round cheeks
wear clumsy blush
amid the jostling
mid-day rush
a scattered gathering
on bustling streets
and approaching
from shuffling alleys, meek
tall-heel strides
click, scrape, and writhe
high notes sing
their lovely hymns
surly lows bellow
haunting the booming hollows
where day and night collide
pulsing– busily within
this winding rhythm
which each love has been
and to which
we’d once danced–
or to which
we’d once
dreamed
of dancing
if we’d
never been
gifted
the chance
these faces
known still, as well as my own
tho– to another’s body
with thick yarns, sewn
and some flashing
a coquettish grin
and some quite sad
without, and within
lavender tears lost
amid this scuffling din
and I sometimes wonder
on sunny Tuesdays
if anyone else
might ever
see them