We meet in fragments,
Steel girders exposed,
Rust creep into the bones
Of things we once called permanent.

I trace the lines of your face
Like cracks in the pavement.
We build nothing soft here.

No delicate arches,
No gentel curves.
Just sharp edges, and
Unfinsished walls.

Bodies made of brick,
Sirens the city breath,
Singing in the distance.
This is no castle, no dream.

In sonnets they spoke of stars,
Of roses and moonlight,
Their verses draped in silk.
But we -

We don’t live in gardens,?We love in broken windows,?In shattered glass and empry frames.
No immortal sonnet, no guilded rhyme.

In the rubble,
Just us -
Trying to rebuild.?Adam and Eve.

Not cast out, but rising -
From the ashes,
From steel and smoke,
Rising from the cracks beneath our feet.