Comfort in a Crowd

Wiggling fingers

entice me

to grab hold and

forget

.

Blurry chaos without my glasses

enveloping us

chatter, shuffling, transactions

.

forget

.

Skewed glances that judge with ice

I feel trapped by others' gaze

often

.

Those fingers

behind her back

wiggling worms with red painted heads

ringed with silver and skulls

make me forget

.

I reach, trying to catch on to her

as we surge forward together

mowing through the waving weeds

beneath the burning luminance

a humming roar of crowded speech

.

I've connected,

thin fingers wrap around my chubby pointer and middle

just like how I hold onto my dad's larger hands

she looks back, a wash of curls preamble her quirky smile

tighter

.

I forget everything else

a unit now, no longer anxious

a safety rope drawn between our bodies

She leads me on.

Through the market of factory farmed customers.

She leads the way.

I focus on her hair in awe,

loose wound ringlets of umber and carmine and auburn

That glaring florescence makes it shimmer

.

I smile,

and wish I could hold her hand all the time.