As I walked under the yellow awning of the Bodega on the corner of Knickerbocker and Suydam, I felt the frozen fahrenheit and tepid haunt of his ghost, digging their claws into my fingertips & the spine of my memory. I spoke aloud, alone, but into his mic, ”I’m home, I mean, I’m here, by the Bodega, ya know?… the one where we, where you, would buy us, I mean you, I mean us, would buy us bear claws from…every Tuesday.”
All I needed was the sound of his cracked smile for my butterflies to awaken and whisper to my heart ”We had an every Tuesday”.
I knew you didn’t forget it either because when you walked me to my car you reminded me it was a Monday. and we smiled. and it was understood, that we had a Tuesday, but it was Monday, and it has been Monday everyday for the last 2 and half years. Though for a fleeting moment, in the warmth of this recreated, rotting nest, we felt Tuesday.
The drive was long.
I kept myself awake, my eyes hawking the clock
waiting for midnight. I think I needed to make sure Tuesday would come.
Today is Tuesday,but it feels like Monday.
And it will, I think, for awhile.