an unstable soul, can be found to greet
sitting stranded, straddling side city streets
mind torn in two, attempting to treat
mending mentalities: quite the feat.
on sewage-stained floor beneath the grind
his eyes on you with one thing in mind
you undressed, budding window behind
without a doubt: he wanted what’s mine.
‘twas there i found my mainstay:
wanton wanting whittling away.
