With candid morning-eyes, we lean
softly against moulded walls and as
always, are struck by how eloquent
we feel when in a crowd situation;

we exist, rasping our scriptures
and depositing our hard-up opinions
into the general hubbub. We take
no notice of the men whose hearts

we break, and the women who
fall by the wayside – we leave
it to someone else to pick them up
and bathe their wounds. In the crowd

mentality, we dispense with clichés
and protocol and speak our own
private language; unfortunately we do
not have the words to say I love
you, or Another please, or I, too,
am vulnerable.