everyone in midtown looks like my dad

by Angelina Fay

I didn’t know it was the last time –
It caught me in the turnstile
avoiding my mind’s eye

In a world not unchanged
now the knowing comes in waves
and on every street corner
I’m seeking your frame

trains hiss through tunnel veins
and thoughts fall heavy like a rain

all fall to the summer

from spring to midwinter

the clouds lift from my mind

and piece a footbridge on this river

my curse is I will always be the forgiver

but to you

across that fog I’m delivered       slithered out on another planet’s beach
find myself reaching out and                        walking in my sleep

while on earth I twist my hair
lower my gaze and                hop the train fare

knowing this is the one poem I could never share

just nodding off in the doctor’s chair                   saying things I don’t really mean
murmuring how my body is a dirty machine

 

but when I’m with you
I’m clean

Angelina Fay is a journalist and poet based in New York City. Her fiction, poetry, and creative non-fiction work can be found at her blog, the disturbed universe. This is her first publication.