glass is hard and unforgiving as
it cuts, scrapes and shears off
strips of supple, sinful skin
air is wild, unruly as it tears through
tight-wrapped hair, throwing caution
to it’s self-made wind.
blood is free, spilt from
knicks and knacks and coats
the coming street.
screams are shrill, unrestrained, caught
in blue murder, bloody pain, at this
cars are ants grown fast into antelopes
signs are flicks of colour, showing a language
now futile, lost.
concrete is the end and the start;
a gameover- but blissful; lust.