2.26.2019.
hoarding all of my assumed
necessities in a pink Coach bag.
where’s my vape? she asked.
leaning against a table as two
heavy Kate Spades smack me,
their blonde owners rush
towards smiling faces.
i slip away from the table, and return to another hit by another Kate whose owner is a tall, hostile beauty.
all unbothered.
i turn, and socialize
with sarcastic quips
and emotional exclaims.
i piece together the dots
in my mental bulletin board.
signs of the past, hints of the
upcoming, but most of all:
my own shallow worries in
full focus.
new genuine friends,
and easy laughter.
i reflect on the good.
clarity is in every nervous gulp of air.
me with my asides and
unkempt hair.
me with black
heeled Oxfords
among
Old Skool Vans.
She is pending.
a quarter late.
iii xv. 