Neither young nor old, as Hispanic melodies reverberate from a temporary sunday's Colombie in the park, A man and woman South heading a little way. arms Full of boxes (two each) filled with thick glass Clicks, in lock step with their side-by-side gait. (Black pansies and rose begonias rustle near my toes, using their surrounding breath fronds to intermittantly tickle.) The couple, southmore bynow quiteoutofvision, slowly like—succoring our high humidex noon— presuming they'll reach the the dépanneur's bottle redemption. (sipping a bottle of cold. licking Evaporation from my upper lip. half hour passed, in between the flaps of Paper extending from a spine-in-hand and words and Foreign lives in my Livre. there exists this extension of substance but the lives in the extension, while not extended touch me in their philosophy.) Hearing footsteps I look from a flap page, to the sidewalk, the man and woman returning—northerly now. Sharing one green glass mineral Gazeuse and a blue glace and a pink glace artificicle each, which they suck from plastic. Their short walk, having Exchanged remnants Of a Young middlelderly's age's right of passage, Folly, obtuse and slippery liquid Judgement, For simple sugar colours combustion engine of early youth. Shining, melting popsicles, which wink in the 33°C embrace. cafes fall in love meeting the rapids buried in statues of their river A neighbor's blue and white flag almost flutters nearly dancing over the man and woman as they disappear, (doubtless from the extension of I).