All My Life

I still believe in magic, I tell him, late night in Chelsea and the weight of the world on our shoulders. We woke so early, weekend traffic to the Rockaways and the ocean quiet before the crowds arrive. I speak with the ocean still but sweet now, I’ve stopped pleading with it to bandage these bleeding wounds and giggle in the waves. A ragged man sat on F train with his busted keyboard, playing songs I knew in my youth and loved, this was all before the coffee set in but I still sank into his chords and smiled, despite myself.

The movie was long, but beautiful, all cowboy hats and western Americana, I breathe easier with home in my spine, I can handle every life’s sadness against that desert backdrop. We walked out to discover a concert in the late summer twilight, I wore a sweater and marveled at the temperature but maybe it didn’t cause the shivers, life is strange in its wayward miracles.

I still believe in magic, I told him, 23rd street as the train rolls in and who do we find on the train car but the same ragged man with his keyboard and quiet harmonies, I stood mouth wide open at the door and had no answers to offer. This is New York, was all I could think to say before I left him at west fourth street, smiling at the Universe. The bartender only charged us for half the drinks and the bride next to us waxed on about her black heart, how there is hope still to be had.

We do not know all the things that are yet to come, we wade in our own insignificance. One day I asked the Universe for a chance to fail up and boy did the Universe deliver, I still make wishes at 11:11 and do you know, all of a sudden on the A train at midnight, everything you could think to ask for can come true.