Glass teeth. Street sleep. Blue rust under tongue. Boards bloom. Blurred rooms. Late light licks the wires. Nobody owns. Nobody owns. Smoke saints. Steel frames. Traffic hums thin blood. Slow signal. Soft sirens. Somewhere, cement sighs. Nobody owns. Nobody owns. Low tide. No name. Still blue. Radio ghosts. Hallway hums. Dark shapes change address. Red lights. Small religions. Nobody knows, Nobody knows. Low tide. No name. Still blue. No map. No edge. No stitch. No end. Still Blue. Just Blue...
