Maybe my family is
lucky. Nothing too bad has happened to us, despite
odds. This is the bubble that i depend on when, full of fear of
cities and such, i walk through
Brooklyn by myself
after midnight. This bubble is what i
cite comically when i tell my parents not to worry about me, when i would rather say,
i can take care of myself.
A soap bubble, when exposed to air, thins and finally breaks. This is transience. This is learning to live.