Urban Deli

The shower was long, but I had saved up minutes from so many lost showers; it seemed fair. For a moment I considered canceling, I was still tired, but I longed for the company, and I trudged that slushy hill down, the same street all the way down to the end, that street stays with me, hiding behind the main artery of the island, always linking to whatever alveoli carry another breath of oxygen for my life here.

She had a new apartment, it was beautiful. Do you know, tonight, for that brief hour before you all appeared, I looked around and felt like I could live here. Weeks pass, entire lives up and over, the island remains.

We ended up at the same bar, always the same blocks covered, comfort in routines. I walked home later, the same street but uphill now, a cobblestone home so many months in the making. The hours with you, I needn't think forward or backward. Your voices in my ear are a refuge, I am comforted. I vow never to stray, to go too far away or too long without. Your voices in my ears, I am safe.