hit or miss

I walk through the rain to the store after seeing the doctor. the seat of my bike is damp and I steer her cross the tram lines like a dog I can control. at the supermarket I buy markers and pasta for craft. steal some string from the drawer in the lounge and thread beads between tiny tubes of macaroni. I wear my necklace on the tram alone and present the sad boy with his a moment before he’s due onstage. he’s surprised by the gift and thanks me with a promise to play the song. I cradle the glass against my collarbone and whisper along to the words of the poems he plays on my phone to keep me safe at night. for a moment I forget the body and the world I inhabit and there is nothing but the feeling between reaching the pillow and dreaming. he jokes about selling records and tees before sending us back to sleep. I pocket the napkin runes with his scribbles from the stage the moment he descends into past tense and the crowd.