I’ve been looking for you
in every bus terminal I take to leave home—somewhere within these crowds I know
you’re there, endlessly attempting to escape yourself. I sit, pensive, between
the lonely legs of strangers: a woman to my right bounces her foot awaiting
someone who loves her; a man to my left tells a voice on the phone he won’t be
back, “don’t worry.” And I, I sit pensive, and think of a reason to leave, or a
reason to stay, and come up short both times.

Because, if I’ve learned anything from you, it would be the comforting
feel of being

lost.

So, I look for you now,
through herds of people also searching for something they can call home, empty
eyes watching fleeting feet. You have yet to materialize, but I can feel you
getting closer like a rain in my knees. And I know when my pupils dilate to let
in your frame, the comfort of being lost will evaporate, and this time, when
you attempt to continue your escape, I’ll ask you
Finally

To stay.

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