so many more to post -- here is my digital finger in the dam of poems i need to upload

"And I'll be your english friend" John says
his voice makes the air, so brittle and so cold, mold into a vapour.

"Do you know anything about London? What if he asks where you are from?"
her tone stutters like a car that won't turn over.

"I'll say 'you know, where the bridges fell?'"
her cheeks glow more pale in the dim street lamp lit sidewalk.

"What do you care anyway? It will sound just as realistic as your accent does when you're..."
the laugh punches them both first in the back of their throats before catching sound.

"In bed!" they raor together clutching coated shoulders and tumbling up iced stairs.