Another fight on the street below, nThey've got things to prove.nShouting threats and sending out a counterglow.nAll they do is walk, talk, knit socks, wind clocksnand crawl on their bellies like a reptile.nnI have no idea at all...nI hear a sound...nnWe talk of parks and simple places,nSense the thickness of the air.nHighly strung like nervous guitarsnMy fingers make waves in you.nnWe're afraid to call it love,nLet's call it swimming...