Biscuit

She took my hand,
led me through staggering
streets. We paused only
to wash our reflections
from puddles.

I scattered pieces of myself
through the city like crumbs,
scrunched beneath the cushions
of a dilapidated sofa,
pooled around the drain
in a flooded subway tunnel,
bobbing in tear
tracks on the road.

You found us curled
in the pocket
of your best friend’s
leather jacket.