the only go between

I greet the man with the bass in his voice and imagine him on the radio.
I go quiet to music that says, ‘o desert speak to my heart, o woman of the earth, maker of children that weep for love’ because it sounds like my native indian alter ego.
I get a tingling sensation in my shoulders when bono sings ‘after the flood all the colors came out’ because it fills me with hope.
I look at my bruised elbow and smile because I need the proof.
I see hints of me in you and you in me but I can’t tell if your being sarcastic or complementing.
I have lunch, dessert and almost have an accident. My near life experiences.
I run in the twilight and work on my form, lest I be dismissed as just another suit.

Just another day, this 22nd of April?
No. Not for me.