Smile

Defiant,
you walk
Devouring miles
with
tiny,
unshod
feet
King that you are,
Master of Streets

Nonchalant,
your eyes
Scream
With the muted rage
that reveals
The gambit
That is
Your smile

Desolation,
Incomprehension
As palpable
As the hammer thump
Of that heart
In its fragile cage
of rib and bone,
Are invisible
in their ordinariness
Less winning a habit
than that smile

That practised smile

Your cracked lips,
The treacle of saliva and fear
Are a golden thread
of hope
Spun from ignorance,
kidnapped opportunity
Woven into the fabric
of an existence
Worn, threadbare,
as precious
As the shirt that hangs
from your almost absent shoulders.