i overslept at the stange man's place. my mind, never unblushing, must have schemed it that i would.
and so, the strange man already work-overalled, woke me up at around ten, saying he had to go. i jumped into my pants, coiled like an indigo serpent by the foot of the bed, and told him i'm coming with him.
it was a holiday morning, and the streets were stark and long. we waited for the bus in front of an old building with turrets shooting out of its sides. "why, you've only seen this now?" the strange man asked. i ignored him. in the flecked morning light of this late summer day, the building preened there like a wedding cake begging to be sliced.
in the bus, there was only the driver besides us. as the strange man dipped twice his fare card for the both of us, the driver smiled at him. i scurried to the back of the bus unable to converse with the driver's recognition of the things we did last night that was so long and almost without end. of the undeniable light that was now all our own.
