I met a city that refuses to recognize.
It speaks in engines and humidity,
assigns me a room with no reflective surfaces,
files it under mercy.
I met a man who keeps time without instruments.
He doesn’t measure me, he measures quiet.
He asks for nothing, which is almost punitive.
Kindness is an unlocked door; I stand in the threshold and do not cross.
We negotiated a procedure:
I will appear intact if no one knocks.
He will ignore the manifest unless it leaks.
We sealed it with coffee, not signatures.
I did not run. I executed an evacuation.
Maps burn cleaner than memories.
Airports bless the ordinary.
Boarding passes, numbered exits, a seat that doesn’t ask for history.
Follow on Instagram