I sat down and melted into the chair, or the bus melted into me.
It started with the fingerprint.
I'd never meet the one who left it.
They'd never know that a stranger wanted to meet them,
because of the oil left by their finger on a bus pole.
Then with my eyes closed,
everyone on the bus became sounds and textures;
the brushing of his backpack against my coat,
a sneeze behind me, a muffled bless you and thanks.
The beep of the bus line being pulled for the next stop that was also mine.
Sniffles throughout the vehicle, all of us leaning with the traffic,
so close together.
All here, simultaneously, warm, sharing a presence
beyond these four wheels.
Everyone else in this town, in this state, sharing it.
Existing at the same time;
to me, it was one place; the world.
No one was lost from me, not even the carrier of that fingerprint.
Same existence, same home.
Everyone was here.
And here didn't have any boundaries.