had logo

I imagine you downtown—Art Week near the Blue Bridge—you caught between swarming tourists and rotating, purple dragonfly statues. You and someone not you because she is a few years older, she never dyed her hair, never learned to live in heels like you did. But still maybe like you, somehow. And in this scene that I’ve built out of uncertain grief, half-eaten omelettes, chipped restaurant mugs, and an answering machine beep—I like to think of the crowd pushing you two together just for a moment. A sudden brush of elbows. A quick half-smile apology, maybe, as the sunlight sneaks through the cloud cover for a second—almost two. Catches on the purple iridescent paint of those dragonflies, breaking them open into a thousand, different refracted colors. And then gone.