King & Kalakula Ave.

Prologue/Setting: It's a gritty sunrise. Empty, deceased- I gape at the different forms of social atroscities & see there weight. Airport bound.

Resting in a bed- street. A young adult takes up room. Bus stop, pedestrians wait, Ala moana bound. Eyes flicker to to the sleeping mass- taking up space. One bench of two. Shoes with heels pressed down like house slippers black souled, empty nests. Two properly perched alligned stars. Brown smudged toes exposed to wind and the rising light, are attached to feet, intertangling with intamacy.

The street pulses on. Sheer chiffon trails off of aTurquoise fashion dress as a street is crossed. Business phone calls are ended, texts from books call concentration. Chills, dense flat bumps rise on his toroso, rearranges. Many eyes look momentarily, but don't see. Blackberry texts, travel books in Japenese, Hello Kitty. 

Epilogue: Bus 19 arrives. I take a seat and out the window, watch a flock of black birds chattering in the intersection.