Focus on the Sweet

returning to a place which does not belong to us

but has the familiar touch of a past lover

walking the alleys with ease

the first time I haven’t needed GPS in months

the coffee shop with tile floors

the barista is still the same a year later

but my face doesn’t ring any bells

and it’s warmer than it was last November

my luggage is somewhere on another continent

cherished things

I’ll never hold in my hands again

(past lovers)

and I’ve had three hours of sleep

and just as many layovers

in the past twenty-four hours

but it’s warmer this November

and I’m gently held by the sunshine

in the tile-floored coffee shop

and it feels like coming home

I left my hotel in Kampala over 24 hours ago, and in those hours it seems all that could unravel has. I flung my head out the window, expecting to vomit on the highway to the airport. It was either anxiety or a hangover; I’ll never know. I boarded that bus holding the bitter news that my boots were stolen and although my roll of film was found there is in all likelihood no chance I’ll be reunited with it. I fly to Addis Ababa to discover that my flight to Amman has been cancelled. I’m transferred to a new flight that leaves in 40 minutes to Cairo and then to Amman that gets me there 6 hours later. In Cairo I learn my luggage was never transferred and in Amman I’m told that they’re not sure where it is. I order an Uber, knowing it’s illegal, but still hoping it’ll work out because it’s half the price of an airport taxi. Five cancelled drivers and an hour later, I give in and grab a cab. All of this mess, and I still know I’m coming home; the universe knows it too. All of this bitterness that nearly brings me to tears in the Cairo airport, speckled with sweet, delicious morsels of goodness.

-the man on my first flight who helped me take my bag out of overhead storage and made space for me in the aisle

-good airport sushi and fresh mango juice at 4 a.m.

-the airline representative telling me it’ll be okay when he told me my flight was cancelled and watched the light leave my eyes

-the customs agents who gave me my visa without a single question about how long I’m staying or where I’m staying or why, just, “welcome back”

-the last few jasmine flowers fighting winter along the sidewalk

-a ~good~ soy latte and a corner to write in

I’m choosing to focus on the sweet.