two minutes


two minutes


standing                                                                                                                                                                        on a street corner
crowded morning cars buzzhorns honk
street buses pass me by
dark sky threatens
and i lit a cigarette

i watch her
step from a cab
a long-ago memory
dimmed by age & wine

of time immemorial


a sort of whatever

she smiles faintly

in recognition


i cross the street

walk to her

rain falling

street noise deafening

thunder echoes

flashes of light arch across the mid-town panorama

& i speak her name in a whisper


& she remembers

eyes wide

as we embrace
as the taxi pulls away
as a police car pauses
as dreams reengage
as people pass us by

& i kiss her
just as i had the last time
we touched

jacklyn henry


jacklyn henry is a genderqueer writer based on the fringe of sanity, Los Angeles. she has had some success of late at: delicate friend, flying dodo, H S T, pink disco, cream scene carnival, and, in a different lifetime, ariel chart.


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