spiders crawling the web-shattered screen music up too loud, black eyes daring anyone to say something, to complain, to offer to save her, and I'd swear she can see through me, x-ray vision to the spandex under my jeans.
I watch her put on makeup, flawless hands on a jerking train, the most graceful fly I've ever seen caught, tied, twisting, a trapeze artist who's far more elegant than I've ever been in the air
as if you can save me, she glares. I've been caught looking, I'm the one left twisting, awkward. as if.
she walks away from the train into the sunset-night, into the park across the street. I could follow her- I'm not the fastest, but it wouldn't be hard- but the doors close and I let her go.
as if I could save her. as if I could save anyone. as if.