portrait 2

orange jersey and two leg braces, wishywashy slurs across the floor, you! big-hat, big-eyed boy! how far have you come? he's smiling at the door, at next stops, next floors around and around slowly like burning paper, watching the edges buzz to cinder and melt away. close to the guardrail, at the seat of the stairs, back to basics, but you turn your head and he's gone, smiling.