In no time

Noreen Ocampo

The streets are aflame with all colors
again, high-rises crumbling as sidewalks
split from the main roads. The
streetlights choke on a
mispronunciation of my name that
I should be used to by now, but it still
irks me endlessly. You know what
to do, buying tickets so we board the
next train. The city’s colors combust
outside the window as we soar past,
flames licking the side of the
tracks. I hear them wailing

for me,
my palms prickling as the temperature
of my skin peels a layer from my bones. You
do not touch me,
do not need to. You simply order
a glass of ice water, like you always
do on days like these, voice your awe
at the speeds this train can reach,
& remind me that we will arrive at the
next city, where the unworldly colors
never touch, in no time. & so I hold
the glass in my hands, feel the
heat fade, & believe you.