the mess that fills empty space
robbing it of power
too well lit
only empty in shadow

ears ringing out the window and
our faces are so close
her eyes flash their teeth
dull sheen in the new day darkness

legs intertwined solely as anchors
we exist shift and prove through
our torsos face and hair
stopping to share the fear that
only grips us in
the comfortable silences
that weave through unseen gaps

three small windows leaking
grey morning shrill chirps every
five minutes jar and fracture warmth
foreshadow abandonment
the pleasant desolation
of the face down concrete march