Them

Sure, the towers are no longer here.
You can not see us.

But we walk up here on thin air.
We have no bodies to contain our pain.

So it just spreads out.
Pushed this way and that way by the wind.

Yet always blown back to this spot.
It is a tremendous pain.

An unbearable pain that has made its home
in our hollow souls and intensifies each passing day.

Sure, the towers are no longer here.
You can not imagine how we get by,

how we hold ourselves up by clinging to each other,
charred and dusty above the city.