11:00 PM

her eyes were on fire.
blinking did not bring any relief
and the rocking of the subway car
was adding nausea to the mix.

vodka was a bad choice she thought
in soft fuzzy focus
wrapped in barbed razor wire.
gin, and less of it,
would’ve been better.

public spaces, subway cars,
parks, stadiums,
lobbies-
they all moved
with similar tempo.

people go left
people go right
stand up
sit down
keep on moving-
sea sickening really.

what time is it?

a thought nagged
at the edge
of her awareness.

the sliding outside
didn’t help.

and then it hit.

‘wheres my phone?’

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