Yesterday, on my morning subway ride, I looked up and saw my reflection. Oh, yes, there I am. Not
a passing thought, but steady and centered, it held onto me for a
while. Hair half-dried, half-wet, black trench coat tied lop-sided with
the belt hanging down to my knees, skinny jeans, and black ballet flats.
A recognition, re-cognition, of the lines of my legs, the curves of my
waist, the slight arch of my shoulders. Balanced and full and calm. There I am.
Recognition and re-cognition, as if I had been missing all this time.
All these years. As if I always knew I'd be standing there on the A
train on a Thursday morning in my twenty-ninth year, despite and in
spite and because of it all. Waiting for only myself. Oh yes, there I am.
