The AC is blaring.
My armpits, damp with the evenings sweat.
As I look around, as I listen,
I see them:
the overworked, the underpaid, the shoppers, the students
and the privileged few, blessed with a day of nothing to do
and nothing to care for.
Words and sounds of The Roots blast into my ears,
a song about love, creative supremacy and life lessons.
I watch each stop pass me by only to remain,
seated, permanent in my ways.
The darkness in the near window absorbs my mind and I am happy
in this short lived solitary state.
(Should I write about the moment
or let it be another undocumented, thing?)
I recognize a familiar, but no words did we speak.
A slight nod of the head was all.
What a rush of inactivity.
I ascend the stairs to continue my lonely journey.
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