Side-street, stumbling:
A lit cigarette and
Wide sad eyes.
The outline of a rib-cage
Under thin fabric.
No empathy now;
The thud-thud-thud
of the music.
Blasphemy!
Their bodies move in time.
Smeared lipstick,
Slurred speech.
His face beneath
Neon hysteria,
Emptied of feeling;
Its anonymity - crucial.
Open mouths of hunger:
Well-earned, badly spent.
Knees bloodied,
Gutter to gutter -
The old bruise resurfaces,
Lingers and discolours.
The street lamps sigh.
They are amnesiacs.
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