Sita Seng, USA
My feet rest high on the rim of the car window, shoelaces flapping in the blue sky. In the front seat a friend from years ago and her new boyfriend are talking.
We arrive at the arena parking lot, small tents set up against the heat -naked children run around, dirt and tans indistinguishable. My friend and her boyfriend duck in, visiting people from different tents. I sit on a cement barrier- watch bright cloth flap in the warm wind. At some point my old friend comes to sit with me. We have both changed the two years since high school.
The boyfriend comes back smiling, "open your mouth ladies."
A bit of nothing lands on my tongue.
Later, while entering the stadium a tattooed arm bumps me. The girl me looks at me- a secretive smile. I know I should recognize her but I don't.
As we get inside I am pulled by the tattooed girl to a spot on the grass. Two of them are looking at me now, talking, asking me something, wanting a response. Their lips move, but I can't understand. Everything past has been swallowed up in blankness. I realize these are people I should probably know, and that there are others, but I can not recognize anyone. After a while I stand up and dance and the people seem to relax. I have forgotten words--all words. I feel the saliva on my lips; it is no longer as hot.
At the end of the day the girl is still moving me around. We are back out in the parking lot. I look in the distance- somewhere there will be a place where no one will ask me questions. On the ground, my shoes in the dirt- the only familiarity I see.
over the dark mountain
a red sunset