I.
Rivulets of rainwater dance
                                          On edge,
Cracked road painted with
Burnt rubber and chipped yellow lines,
Bits of metal bar and
Burning wood
                     -skidding-
Off
       the road

II.
It's 6:00 pm here beneath
The Jones Bridge;

The smell of oil and
Murky sewage water laps at
         My ankles as
My toes meet
               Yours:

Burnt matches stewing
In the palm of your hand, damp
Brown eyes

          —gawking—

At my patsy appearance.

III.
Floating
                    the surface
            on                            
                                          of
Our shallow river is                     A yellowing letter.

We, undaunted,
Swiftly grab at it with our slim
Fingers. For a moment,

We recognize each other.