Another crowded train. I feel his breath on my bare arm, a startling intimacy and I turn my head towards him. He is close enough so I can see the minute hand on his watch, the tiny blond hairs in his eyebrow, the glow of his wedding band. He is golden all over, skin, ring, hair, and unaware of me, our proximity, as he concentrates on an Arabic text.
3 Comments:
As always, brilliant, and ever so intimate...
I've been following your work here now for several months. I LOVE you pics ( you already know that I love your writing). They make me want to move to NYC. As in, look at what I'm missing!
I'm still working at seeing the world more thru MM Eyes, for there must be things that I am missing. But then again, I am purty good at gaining joy from the little things...
THANK YOU for your work.
dag, I thought of you, when I saw what he was reading. but he was so engrossed...and so unaware of anything else.
Hi EastWest! I am so glad you are here!
I have been doing a lot of thinking about how art is necessary to bring order to the chaos that is this city. I am not sure you are missing anything if you are finding beauty where you are. the beauty I find here...well, sometimes it is out of desperation...I need the balance I see. It sustains me in some ways.
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