synchronicities

I saw you walking here, he tells me,
a stocky guy, maybe four months ago.
Bearded? Tall? I say, but I know who he means.
I laugh when he nods.
Day one of an adventure that
ended too soon and broke me.
He mentions a girl he knows
from my neighborhood,
in too many details,
too many times,
and I know we braided
parallel strands of our lives,
only to meet at last in
this Asian restaurant,
eating the best Pad Thai I have
ever eaten.
I'll show you something, I tell him,
with a shrimp in the chopsticks.
I want to show him the path
I tread without saying the
words, but I am still
constructing and repacking
the experience in my head,
finding a story I can live with.
The meaninglessness of my
shattered glass heart
is not fit for consumption.
I take him to my urban forest of tags
and pictures and
He asks me if I am ever afraid to be
in this desolate place.