Grace


Writing

I swallow a stone
and my hands shake

An airplane and train
on parallel planes
intersect without effect

Then,
Grace interrupts
the knot in my stomach.

A stream of light
laid on the subway stairs
particles of dust
a purple sweater and
borrowed necklace
a feeling, I’ve been here before.

I lock eyes with a stranger
And the smallest of smiles
Leap toward each other.