Role Playing With Strangers

We paddle through small talk, I like her, she has style. I imagine we have a history together back in an old movie that I have yet to see. I begin to construct a lost and anecdotal life. In another place we’re a vaudeville act wisecracking between meal tickets. Our home, a trunk covered in Midwest decals. We share the occasional Spam sandwich, theater gossip and sleaze; we cuddle as we trundle along long defunct rail tracks. We date in elevators, make out in a battered Oldsmobile. In Bangkok, we share a ride in a Tuk-Tuk careening down narrow streets. On any sidewalk, we meet regularly as reflections in windowpanes. Today you’ve gone to Guatemala to fight for a right. Marimba music plays as you climb up my spine. Time now to rent more space outside these traveling dreams.