Lyric

Blue sheets snap in the weather

Tied with rope to rusted beams

Steam rolls up from open pots

And disappears between the seams

Three coins slide

A knife hits wood

Someone laughs

Under dripping goods

I duck beside a stack of mangoes

Shoulder close to someone’s sleeve

Water runs along the canvas

Like the sky forgot to leave

A woman counts change in her palm

Her bracelets clicking out of time

She nods me closer without speaking

As the rain redraws the line

We are strangers under plastic

Warm breath, wet shoes, passing plates

No one knows my name here

Still they make a little space

Fish scales shine in cloudy silver

Green leaves darken in a crate

Oil jumps high from a blackened skillet

Thunder answers half a second late

My shirt is pasted to my back

My ticket curls inside my hand

For once, I stop pretending

I know exactly where I stand

Let the rain hit hard

Let the roof bend low

Let the whole street blur

Into overflow

I came in looking for a doorway

Found a crowd that let me stay

For one bright storm

In a borrowed place

Not home

Not lost

Not clean

Not dry

Just heat from the pans

And water from the sky

There is kindness in the narrow parts

A bowl passed sideways through the crowd

A child asleep on folded fabric

While the weather drums too loud

I thought shelter meant a wall

A locked room, a private light

But here it hangs from ropes and metal

Shaking blue against the night

Let the rain hit hard

Let the stalls glow gold

Let the road turn soft

Where the gutters overflow

I came in empty from the station

Carrying distance in my face

Left with steam inside my jacket

And the shape of shared space