On the subway there’s a girl, there’s always a girl, who smiles at my smile, though mine was for the old man I was talking to. After, there was an awkward moment at the door before it opened, while we stood and the world was blurry and I tried to forget it. The doors opened and I walked out, first, brisk, awkward, and she followed. Slow and in control, taking the elastics out of her hair she moved ahead of me, ascending the escalator with amazing, powerful grace. Composed, a god, Venus.

And she knew I was behind her and she waited long with the door.

But at the sidewalk we split and there’s a supernova in my head so I can’t trust any of this, and I know that it sounds strange. On the subway I switched directions, twice, once purposelessly; pay three times for two trips; see someone I know and forget what to do; and nod and stare long at the ground when the old man speaks to me and I can’t hear his words. And then this, and I’m messed up, spinning!

At my destination I cross the street, convinced it’s on the other side, in a split second, when I know the numbers say it’s where I was, when I turn and see, after crossing, that it was right where I was. But I get there. And it’s good. And I’m back next week and that’s good too.

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