We wandered the night aimlessly.
The children of street-urchin-anarchy
sacrificed to the detrivores
of the sky-high metal labyrinths.
(For fear they’ll devour the living)
I remember it vividly.
The iron foundry air
cut like a razor through my sweater skin.
The concrete beneath my feet
swallowing the warmth like a vacuum.
Then you wrapped yourself around me like
a Mylar blanket.
And seeped into my skin
in a cosmic osmosis of lost souls.
For a moment we were home.
Only a moment.
We were thin white plastic blowing in the wind.