Thursday, August 16, 2018

coming or going

a man sees
me crying on the train
and approaches me.
he's older than me.
he asks if he may sit down
beside me,
if the seat empty.
are you okay, he says.
dear boy, are you okay?
i wipe my tears on
my sleeve and tell him
yes. i'll be fine.
i'll be fine. i just don't
know if i'm coming or going
anymore, to which he
says nothing, but nods
knowingly of what i speak,
and gently takes his
hand in mine.

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