My sidewalk

 I can tell you the sidewalk loves me,
it has no reason too.
Loves me more than my mother.
loves me more than my wife.

mMre infatuated with me than my dog.
Than my admirer, than my followers.
It just hunkers down so solid.
Silent and grounded.

Here I am walking parallel,
it pretends not to be there.
So I do too, whistling and jogging.
Carefree, sweaty cheap and me soaking.

It's straight aligned with the curb.
I don't try to high five it.
But it's not too far below me.
Hard as my grandfather's backhand.

I know it's hot for me
Cause sun shining on it all day.
Here you were picturing concrete romance.
Words for the hopscotch chalk .

Butt's last spark as it leaves the smoker's mouth,
boot prints and dwarf gang graffiti can stealth.
It's infatuated with this rustic piece of flesh
surrounding me.