Mist Complexion, Pt. 3

Feeling-Size and Square Roots - w4w (Williamsburg)

The world feels so big sometimes. Other times it feels so small. The feeling-size of the world might be proportionate to the size of internal/emotional gravity. Or maybe it's more aligned with something more banal: the size of one's breakfast any given day, the number of hours and minutes and seconds slept through each night...

All this is to say:
  1. The night before I saw you I slept approximately 6 hours and 15 minutes. (I won't try to estimate the seconds; that seems foolish and unnecessary.)
  2. The morning of the day on which I saw you, I ate yogurt and granola. And a banana. I drank a coffee, black. (From Café Grumpy, the coffee shop on the corner of Meserole and Diamond, in Greenpoint.)
  3. My internal/emotional gravity was stronger than usual; I felt weighted, an almost unbearable heaviness of my being. (Do you too like Kundera?)
  4. The world felt somehow both big and small. (Weird, I know.)

Four things, if transmuted into lines, can form a square: ܛ

That night:
  1. You had on some really stylish specs. (What is your prescription?)
  2. I was wearing an orange-y reddish lipstick. (Today my lips are chapped. The air is dry.)
  3. Field Guides were playing on the small stage in the back of Pete's. (The guitarist's strap kept breaking awkwardly.)
  4. The world felt somehow both big and small. (I wish I had said hello.)

If you think this is about you, write your name and number in green chalk on the sidewalk at the corner of Gansevoort and Greenwich.


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