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