Post-its

29 hugs me and I return the hug like I returned those pants that were a size too big - a rubber band smile  
And all the while my jaw works around some gum in a warm March
Did you see the new feature film? With the familiar faces and the press tour?
I was busy playing pool with a stick once blessed by a recovering dad who loved Coronas  
I like to imagine I’ll get used to 29 for a time
I’ll buy her an overpriced coffee and tell her stories about all the times I fell from a horse
She’s only half listening

The train is so loud on the way to work and the vestibule slams off beat like sex I’d prefer to forget
We watch what would be grass in the wetlands beyond the window and wonder where we’d be if not where we are
She shows me her shins with the scars - from the falls - and opens her hand.
“I used to get tips.”

“I know.” She offers me advice, but I ask her to repeat it.