this man still hogs my bed. it's almost eight in the morning. i open my window and a draft smells of ripening summer leaves.
this man curls away from the light, his spine as perfect a curve as the rim of the sun. he groans. something like too soon. a cough erupts from my chest. he turns around and asks "you okay?" i nod and tell him it's time to leave.
when he's done with his morning things, he asks for the nearest subway. a short bus ride to ___, i tell him. "oh, that easy," he replies.
if only things were that easy, i think to myself. but what if it were?
what if all it takes for him to get me off his mind is to lock hands with me at my door in that ghetto handshake he learned me at the bar? what if all it takes for me to shake him off my system now is simply to imagine him swipe his metrocard at the turnstile and meld away in the heaving subway crowd?
