Chessy calls my name & I whip around like cream.
I love hearing a friend call my name from afar in
New York City. Thom is dressed in nice clothes.
His smile is soft like a marigold. I can feel a tangible
glow emitting from underneath my skin, so bright
that everyone stares at me in the Museum of Modern Art.
& just before! My shoulder resting against the orange
subway seat, being protected by Jack’s shoulder, a guard
on ever watch for anything that might present itself
as a lie. We say nothing. But we’re content. I forgot!
To mention the quality of the air outside. Icy, frigid
but producing a fragrance of cheerfulness, the mothers
& fathers & kin & lovers & friends bound together on
each street’s eve. It’s so beautiful to be done with sadness.
Image by Nick H via Pixabay
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