I saw a waiter who reminded me of you

He was the waiter at Juniors. He wasn’t the one who
served me a grilled cheese and fries I pigged out but a long
sentiment walking above booths all split lipped and raw
from Easter Sunday dinners business lunches and
graduation toast.

It wasn’t his build or his features that made me see you in him but the way he walked by like he didn’t need me.
I didn’t know how to measure this

I think of giving you a call and telling you I’m happy

You’ll ask how can I be happy without you?
My mind leaves for Cuban sands in couple of hours,
a dense breeze reminds the old boy’ rum

rum clouds my Midwest settlement
It is everything for now

I built it for two and I’ve been craving it’s conversation
but you
won’t believe me predicting I’ll never last outside of NY

Don’t ask me why
I’m using the stationery from a company that fired me
maybe it’s my nesting instincts like twisting bed sheets
into a womb
the comfort of knowing exactly how someone feels about you
It’s the guessing that kills

Why haven’t I got this Warsaw story yet?
Why can’t I tell the stories of walking across
ice bridges for what felt like 20 winters

Dough faced women who sold me the Gazeta
Or bread or counted my coins at the market.

I was proud when my maternal instincts kicked in and I came home with pizza
How I would bee through my days and
barely found time to live within my nature or without you

I have many things on my hands
You ask that I stay cool and finish this story

At the time when we both wake up
I’ll try to call you one of these NY mornings