I never want to get any
More new things.
I wanna wear out these shoes white
And walk on the rug till it's perfectly
To wear the shoes dark
Walking on an abyss that's been worn out
The shoes carry me,
I can’t help it,
I fly above the desert with no name
Copyright © 2017 by Ana Božičević. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on February 22, 2017, by the Academy of American Poets.