i will find a man, on darkened street, beneath clouded moon and passing train. I will find a man, ether in my pocket, neckerchief in my hand. I will find a man, douse fabric in liquid, bring soiled cotton to unseeing nostrils. i will find a man, struggling with consciousness, his body limp and cold. i will find this man, and in her absence she wills blade to bone. And i , as silent as the rusted posts surrounding us, will walk away, alone, a pair of thumbs in tow. A pair of thumbs for her.