If you hear something late at night Some kind of trouble. The beams and bridges cut the light on the ground into little triangles and the rails run round through the rust and the heat the light and sweet coffee color of her skin Bound up in wire and fate watching her walk him up to the gate in front of the ironbound school yard. She says they look for the light they try to make sense. They come up through the cracks Like grass on the tracks She touches him goodbye. Breasts and thighs and hearts.
Backs are cheap and wings are nearly free.
Find the line, find the shape Through the grain Find the outline, things will Tell you their name The table. He sails away After one last night I let him go.