My street skin and the readers

Walking in a street skin
My layer of filth sacred and smooth
footsteps across my backbone
a voice in my ear
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I´ve never known the designs
of my hundred tatoos
everyone else reads me like a newspaper
This street skin, what am I but an ad
..
I am a street sign moving across the sidewalk
shoes ground down
grin still kicking it across my screen teeth
never frowning
~~
The aroma pouring off me reflects the street heat
bringing them into the queues
organized by floating robots
creating the ladder to heaven
<<
Each one of those street skin readers acting as a rung
connecting with each other until they run out of oxygen