Daylight. I give her a pair of jeans and a jacket
to cover up the busyness of her.
Now she looks like me.
Now we are just two girls walking down the street.
We go to the subway.
She doesn’t pay the fare.
She just walks through the turnstiles.
We wait for the train.
She doesn’t ask me where we’re going.
She still doesn’t really know what’s going on.
She opens her mouth and the Breaking Bad
theme song comes out. I look around, freaked.
How much Netflix did she watch?
I feel a pang of guilt, like when I realized
it was too late to start letting my cat outside
because he just doesn’t know enough at this
stage in his life. He would just die.
I am motherly in this way.
I am responsible.
I take out my headphones.
I put one in her right ear. She listens.
Her hair seems to glow.
She follows me onto the subway.
I wonder if anybody else can feel the buzzing.
The flickering that’s beginning at her cheekbones.
I want to touch her hand but what would happen?
Would it feel like ice?
Would I be electrocuted?
Would it go right through hers?