Love Hobos (the Real)

My dirty dirty heart
Keeps watch under the bridge
Waiting for things that don't belong to us, but,
Feeling entitled anyhow.
Because you bring the things.
You smuggle them
right to my feet
to my hands
to my heart
to my mouth
all the things I shouldn't take
the things you shouldn't give.
We, greedy, life-is-short and
sweetness is here.
Now.
We, thieves in passion.
We,
(there is a we). We,
who have snatched a place to put our things
here, under the bridge.

In my travels
With my dirty dirty feet
Shredded nails
Aching arms
Head like a Jack-o-Lantern,
     bruised piñata for a heart.
You walked beside me
taking me in with your eyes
blinded by the sun in my hair, and...
(I saw it before you did)
Silently you pledged to bring me things I needed:
The bits of you that were rattling around in the hollows of your eyes
In return for the pieces of me that were bleeding out into the sand.
Your touch would stop the bleeding
My eyes would see through the places others missed.
Thus, in our unspoken contract
You bring me morsels, which we both devour
To sustain us
Greedily, without remorse.

We, the love hobos,
Surviving on each other
Will breathe for one another
Unapologetically
Between heart beats.