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