I walk, walk, walk, walk, walk
and see you in your flowy, golden dress,
with your strong hairy arms,
and your athletic thick legs ending in stilettos
a glimpse of recognition flickers through our eyes and we
happen to walk onto the same train taking us south
I sit close to you and try not to stare at your beauty
and think about the beautiful one waiting for me at home
and who is waiting for you?
I wonder where you come from
and if in another life we could have been together
husband and wife
the train doors open and the cold wind moves your dress
I think about the wind that brought me to london and
about the cold fear that strangles me at night sometimes
I think about my brother in his sweet family home and how deeply
I used to wish that was me
i think about my father who thinks i am so anxious and ugly that
i am scared to have a boyfriend and about my mother
who calls her ‘your friend’ and who i know would have
a full-blown panic attack if i ever
mentioned the word marriage
i would like to hug you and wonder
how many parties i would have to go to before i could?
and I think
in my tiny train seat
after all this time, so many years
I go back to find my same self
the same fears
what do you do when you don’t want your home
anymore? what. do. you. do.
when you are so scared and tired
that you think you don’t want your family anymore?
where do you run to?
I run to you.
This poem originally appeared in The Rise Together Issue #7 of BRICKS Magazine.
