Two homeless people kiss on a bridge.
The world does not stop.
People pass over the waters
Fast paced escape from the weight of the sky.
Car horns and tyres
Pavement cracked faces
Another working day.
In the gap between thoroughfares, a gesture
That crumbles sculptures to chalk and a scrawl on the blackboard
Two sleeping bags smother classical paintings
Oils erased to mirror the washed out sky
Dulled frame to muted bodies.
Two figures, two houses, two lovers.
Lovers of street crossings and walk ways and gang planks.
Lovers in the almost rain.
We will cross that bridge when we come to it.
In the purgatory no mans land
Between water and concrete towers,
Pressed by wind and pushed past
Two sides of one coin tussling
Head over tails
Hees on heels
There is shelter to be found.