The 8th Wonder
Today I saw two sets of bare shoulders reflecting the drowsy sunlight like dim diamonds set into the concrete. They were lying beneath a white sheet, a head tucked inside the crook of a shoulder, an arm extended over a chest. Dreaming as the cars raced by, flooding exhaust and bright lights against the dull business face overlooking the two. They slept with small, gentle smiles on a cardboard mattress. An unscathed island rising from the pools of plastic bags, empty soda cans, grease glazed take out boxes, cigarette butts and scratch offs scraped clean to the bone. In the center of it all, these two people slept like children, the sun rising above them in diluted reds and lavender. I wanted to frame this space in time and hang it up on the walls of the louvre, so that everyone could know what it felt like to be at peace. This is what it looked like, to find someone to be still with, it was love stripped down to nothing but skin and soul. I wondered what it took, for them to find this place they’d made. I wanted to ask them how they did it, how they managed to find each other. Instead I just watched their faces turn from red to green as I left that place forever.