I'm gone now. You won't run into me here. I know the dancing continues. I know, the energy of eyes swims through the station, the communal silence and banter, The looking away the stare out the window, the eye to eye. Recognition. The theatre of the subway car, its changing cast of characters. Always moving away from one situation and towards another. One time I looked down the aisle of the subway and every single person was playing Candy Crush as we crossed the Manhattan Bridge. And no one looked up. The light was gold. The harbor majestic. We were tired in those days. Every one was looking down.