Like an alley cat he wandered through districts and airports not lost, not found, aimless, just to pass the time. He belonged to no one and nothing, not even the world. He was born out of thin air, an eternal orphan. He wanted to find an existence, an existence that you could list, an existence that when you wrote down nouns and activities, your life was that. Autumn, sitting on stoops, staying in bed. Just like that. An existence where an idea of life could form. He had love, that was the only thing he could not ever get rid of. To exercise it would be dangerous. But he still held hands. He drifted through the world in this manner, promiscuous in only a sense. Never letting his love overcome him, it was smart and it was safe. It's always good to use protection.