The man pulls 5am awake. I have beaten him by six breaths. The others are oblivious of our haunting. I stretch and ignite. Fire for rebirth. Subterranean winter chill.
They try to feed me earth balls to ward of winter chills in the underground. Subterranean epiphany. By seven am out in the world chasing my future before it falls apart. Math can’t save me but I have to try.
The J train crawls toward the symbiotic throng. Another strap hanger turbulence. You don’t get to choose your space before you fall. You learn to fit inside time and indifferent perspective.
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