January, first.

by Natalie Robin

Sitting in a snowy New York City park in greenpoint, post-nye, drinking coffee, and realizing that I am in suspension; waiting for everyone I love, knowing only some will ever materialize and assist my movement from this state of being. 
I am watching a little bit of blood collect on the raw edge of my finger between nail and skin and I recognize it as myself more than a mirror can afford. I recognize myself all too well these days, and the only thing unfortunate about it is that sometimes I do the wrong thing, knowingly.
Still, I am happy right now, watching little dogs plunge their feet through the snow, the smoke from an old man’s cigarette lifting and swirling with the heat of his breath on the cold air, an infant being pushed sleepily through all the life she doesn’t yet know, the light peeking through stained glass, the stillness of siamese buildings. The everything. I am happy right now.