The State Department is Looking For You

Silence.  We walked from a tight alleyway to the open street.  We stopped, without a word, without consultation and looked up to the towers of the train station.  The street was busy, the cars taking our first breaths away from the canals, through the streets.
We stood, as the traffic subsided, stopped; we stood.  We watched the towers, brick towers.  Unable to move.  Breathing, now able to feel the air heavy around us.  Marie looked to me and I watched the towers as we crossed to the station.  We waited to be picked up to jog through the city, over canals and through crooked streets and I smiled, looking back at Marie.
I can't believe she ran after you.
I feel so dirty.
I can't believe she ran after you.
We arrived in Amsterdam already lost in the zagging streets, in the old buildings.  The third man standing by his bike that asked us if we were lost we just ignored.  Tired, aching, our feet dragged us around the fences of another, or the same city park.  Sitting beneath a bush in the dirt I looked across the park and a large yellow building rose through the trees.  It was our hostel.
After a few Heineken's at an over priced cafe looking over the park and canal we set off to find the Red Light District, obviously.
A sign that read "Homomonument" assured us we were getting deeper into the city.  Across one of the hundreds of Markt's hiding between buildings we chose an alley to venture into. 
Without warning the bottom level of the buildings turned to windows, covered in red velvet.  The walls curved left, the street was no longer visible.  Ahead of us, the bricks of each building turned to glass, red velvet glass.  Women like art, statues, pictures parted the curtains.  Each street a different woman:  color, shape, size. 
It was all in slow motion.  The camera, the glass door swinging.  We were standing, then running.  The canal shrouded in men saw a woman shouting after us.  We ran until the street curved left and the canal was no longer visible. 
Silent.  We walked through the alley, past cafes in reds, yellows and greens.