I watched a girl sitting on the steps under
the Rialto bridge close a button of a dress on her chest.
The glow of sweat and boats.
And she slipped into the streets and into
the water of the dark.
Black mermaid living in the heat of canals
There are songs that you cannot hear, but under the hollow glow
of the towers and sun.
Every city with bridges has a creature that lives
and she kills at night
and her songs are the sweetest thing
falling the deep night air.