The brick apartment building is shedding.
The patchwork reds and browns
crumble silently, steadily.
The bricks leave dustings of red at their bases
where the blacktop meets the foundation.
Not unlike how we deposit bits of our bodies
throughout our rooms and streets
(slivers of nail, long threads of hair),
and scarier, less visible pieces of evidence
that we identify only as dust or ash or dirt.
We scatter pieces of our surfaces on other surfaces
not unlike a trail of breadcrumbs leading to safety.