Loved One

by Aisha Muharrar

I knew I didn’t want to be somewhere I wasn’t wanted.

The smile was the same. I looked away, not wanting to find out if it still had the power to melt me.

observing a hustle that does not require your participation.

Talk to me like I’m me, not a demographic.

He swayed to a rhythm I couldn’t hear. I’d seen that before, the motions of him working out a song in his head.

path of millennial disassociation and checked my phone.

I pause, grateful to run into him again.