Eating a turkey sub from the school cafeteria
I suddenly think of the blonde woman
whose marriage is falling apart and the dark
circles under her eyes, as if two moons
had lost their light there; I think of how
she so unevenly layered the pickles and tomato
with the pink turkey flesh and the odd way
she has of wearing what she calls a "wife-beater"
T-shirt, even in winter. Her fingers have left
their slender depression in the bun, so in
this tangential way we touch. And then
it strikes me that maybe I have no ideas at all
of my own, only other people's lives where
they've left their imprint on my husk.