Mingling Light

Mingling light
Like the smears
Of a novice watercolorist –

Dusk comes to Chinatown.
And they, beautiful moths,
Young and penniless,

Swarm out into many
Different directions
Softly wrapped in clothes

Sculpting pectorals, abs,
Revealing arms.
They, young men full of

Pride and love and life
And debts,
Students of shadowy

Stairways, flickering stations,
Furtive alleys, and
Lonely old men’s haunts.