Where is your left foot, your companion, your other half? You’re just sitting there all alone on the side of a building. You’ve been abandoned or dropped or forgotten.
Once you were shiny and new, made to hug tiny, chubby tootsies. That’s important work. Whether you came from Nordstrom’s or Target, you were opened from a box with delight. You had a purpose. You had a mate.
Yeah, I know, you’re just some rubber and fabric, but you have a sole! And I have lastima for the idea of you, the image of you, the indication of you. Is that kid crying because half of his toes are cold? Is his mother angry because she can’t find you? Will a dog chew you up or will you end up in a landfill or will a car run you over, but all the while you’re carrying the scent of a person, and playground memories, too?
I know what it’s like to be lost. And seeing you there like a dot in the world reminds me.
I want to take you home and couple you with my lonely boot, the one who’s partner got left behind in a hotel room. But he’s so much bigger than you, I’m afraid it wouldn’t last. Little solitary shoe, we’re all meant to be in pairs. I’ll make you my cell phone case, a paperweight, some abstract piece of art. Whatever it takes, you are found.
p.s. Thanks to Adriana for the zapato inspiration.