Roach

The mouse appears and reappears, becomes a fixture in the apartment without uttering a sound. We name him after the super who will never bother him. Cold mornings turn into spring at the turn of a dime, flowers burst from dead earth and frowns peel from faces at the speed of jackets falling off backs. We drink margaritas like we used to but nothing is the same; it passes across our eyes but there’s no point in mentioning it. What would you do with the words if spoken?

You spend a day at the top of the world, Manhattan at your feet and all of America spreading out beyond. Sit in the window with the sun in your face and connect the dots of the island, the streets that look so insignificant from above but that amount to all you know of life. There’s a slight stir in your chest.

It’s too soon to say when it may thaw.