Waterfront Metro Station


through the speakersthe conductor’s voice scratcheda stop away from mine


we stood stillwaitingfor an explanationabout the hold up


late for dinnercraving sweatpants and wine


i shook my headat a fellow passengersharing our impatience.


a manhas jumpedthe tracksat waterfront.my stop.


and i can see himhow he decidedjumping


was the best way.figured the quaking earthwould understand


how his bones felt,


how they can rattle in the hollow.he believed


the only forgiving dresswas sewn of smoke.


and what hands scraped


him off the rails?did he have anyone to receive him:a box full of skull


shardsand scrap of a yellow shirt?were we all taking him in that night?


the woman i shared a moment with before


huffed through her teethchecked her watch again


leaned towards mewhisperingif you’re going to jumpat least be considerate


enough not to do it during rush houram i right?


noddingi politely half-smiledand screeching train brakes sounded like music.

Author: Elizabeth Acevedo