She stands, huddled
In a too-large coat,
Her too-large eyes drinking
In the passing city.
A wind-whipped tendril
Of mouse-brown hair
Curls in a brief question-mark
Over her head.

She steps hesitantly forward
Swiftly back
Unready to brave the tide
Of bodies, sensing
A rip that will swallow her.
In her pocket, a paper
Crumpled in clutching fingers,
An address, possibly
A lifebelt
Pressed hastily on her by friends.

"Need somewhere to stay?"
An insinuating whisper
Carried on rank breath,
A kraken-hand on her arm.

She snatches away
Launches herself into
The people-current

Sink or swim

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