I saw you today from the other side of my car window. Waiting right below the street lamp where you and I once hailed a taxi together. It was a frigid January evening and the streets were cluttered with drunken flirts and a distant ringing of reggaeton. I’ve doused myself with enough whisky and had thought the night should be over early rather than later; these days I start my mornings before seven, with double pours of coffee, enough to keep me active though hazed, enough to jumpstart the day, enough to help me remember what life was like before you and I and before you and I was no longer.

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