I was staring at the bildungsroman mounting in concentric circles around your Adam's apple. No - they were tree rings. The tree rings of your neck.
Instead of funneling my sight towards your face or brain, the budding adulthood of your neck led me sideways. It led me onto the sidewalks. Your body was fuzzy. Your body was a thumbtack on a panoramic photocopy of West Broadway.
Then I went to my secret noodle place. I slurped with a pre 9/11 mindset.
