purest

Amid soiled walls

stitched and knotted haphazardly

built on thread columns and beams

swaying in the cold breeze

that blows from the silent river at night

On sheets of carton

laid on the colder floor

stained with mud and footprints

coated in the thickest dust

that sails the skies by day

Clad in thin shreds of rags

tainted with the purest blood,

there lay like moonlight

the most innocent face, the smoothest skin

the coldest in the night.