the foyer, part II

it struck me as odd today that any of this could even happen.

and of course, i didn't intend to see your face again, or to be going into work at the same time that you were or to be leaving the coffee shop at the same time you were walking past it with that beautiful woman in a little dress.

and i swear, i scheduled those meetings before i realized they were in your building and i swear i will not be there every day. and certainly i wouldn't have been there if i didn't have a very good reason.

but seeing your face again struck me as odd in the same way that its all odd. i'm learning to give up trying to explain myself in some kind of defense that i'm not crazy.

there is a remarkable sameness about your frame and your face. the most familiar stranger. this familiarity confuses me.

it all confuses me. there's a built up tornado in my chest, a tumbling and revolving of questions and i am trapped by restrictions of being unable to make this right.

today, i sat for an hour on 6 1/2 ave watching your coworker with silver hair and we smiled at each other. send my regards, i thought. no, don't send my regards, they would not be regarded well.

so i went back into the coffee shop to throw away my cup and clean my hands before the long ride home and i thought about the time i that sat there soaking wet, waiting for you. and i opened the door and there you were. you didn't see, but i just stopped, watching you walk away toward something i'm not privy to.

on my way back to my bicycle i walked past the pedestrian throughway and smirked and dared not peer deeper into my memories.

i rode home through times square, down broadway, a remarkably pleasant route when my prayers and pleas for peace and calm and mercy are louder than the crowds and horns and sirens.

i cut east at thirty eighth street until i was let off at the river. and, why didn't i remember that this is the park where we sat and i quietly went over our future and agreed to it? it was something like love and safety then. this was my first time back.

which is why it was so odd to come home to my little sanctuary in the east village and look at my doorway remembering that first week i was home always walking with my keys in between my knuckles just in case.