Mouth opens to sky filled with zodiac; flashbulbs from cameras.

Impatience stands by the information booth, waiting.

Announcements over the PA—blinking train tracks & men in fatigues greet me. Street opens to car horns & midweek, midtown mayhem.

Sitting at Rockefeller center counting tour books & cameras. Greeted by loss & joy. Saint Patrick’s opens its arms wide,

pulling me in. Listening to languages, cameras coming in for solitude & pain. Sitting front row—listening to echoes of souls bouncing off

the stained windows, leaping across marble floors.

Tree-line means I’m at the park—crowds thinning & doormen appear, flagging taxis; ordered cars, where Money is.

Crossing

across eastside, old Irish bars that survived, stand firmly through temporary cosmopolitans, fusion menus.

Watching

my old self, I find solitude over a plate of waffles & intimacy of weddings 3000 miles away from home.

Downtown

heading towards Lexington—suits having lunch–daily grind. Down into the 6; waiting minutes, while smelling stale air, rats scurry, tucked between time out & college students I go downtown, walking familiar corners; I find indecision in a dressing room. Whistling to Blur—we change.

Wondering what is exactly behind door number two, three. Late Summer heat bring hormones to the surfaces like small flames. On a street

corner

fate stands lost & indecisive, time is only something that catches us at Grand Central–venus’ flytrap. Pondering stroll & watching landmarks pass, seeing myself twenty years earlier; tired feet finds track 22, leaving zodiacs, 20 second crushes, smell of acid air, yellow cabs, 125 street station

announces my departure.

Copyright Cecilie Roaldset from book Greylight.

from book Greylight.