The Chance Theater

Frozen toes
Shrinking in the thin leather of my boots
Slipping on the ice
Jumping and huddling

I feel the tobacco smoke swing through the strands of my hair
And caress my neck
As the people in line snap their matches
And set fires with a hiss

Smoke and lights
Shifting sensually through the air
Creating thick beams of condensed rainbows

Fists and feet tossed in every direction
Reckless and banging through the crowds
Hair whipping through the air
Bodies swerving, touching

A thick pulse through my chest
Penetrating me
And scurrying to every corner of my body
Moving me like a puppet beneath it's strings