you are a tall man, brown hair
with a short friend, glasses.
immediately I see you,
maybe because you are so much taller
than everyone else
or maybe because
we floated
together.
I see you, and I think you see me.
I imagine you have a girlfriend. Rich, and beautiful. Thin. I imagine what you are thinking about right now. Do you know I exist - can you see me, a crowded fifteen miles away.
It is hot, and I leave. Out into the evening breeze, carried away into the New York night.
Yet I think of you. Do you think of me?