Unhidden Human

On the street the women come and go
speaking of grapefruits and tangelos
of children with colds and clothing with holes
on the cold street they bare their
souls, we do not meet
but we acknowledge what we are
and soundlessly we speak
the mutual tongue unangelic
something human something
treasured dropped among
the dirt and dust
of daily dealings things discussed
while what
we try with violent struggling to hide
is thrust
unwittingly into the open air
displayed, expressed, advertised
like clothes we wear,
We cannot help but be ourselves
without effort little knowing
our true selves
how beautiful
how broken
and oh,
how loved.