dug, the underbellies of beat visage, according to
narrow circle view that sight
at the bus station when
could've been (for the first time)
had us close -- hand in hand -- what became
us the other night playing in the snow
at once two boys now two men
who know not to know who
do not speak our mouths are
closed empty without
drink or drugs

we cold fingers that
cannot feel cold toes wrapped
in woolen blankets on the floor
pretending a fireplace in our heart
to keep us warm