heavy enough it unbalances her
on her high heels
she staggers through darkness
up the pier toward land
toward me
I see no boat she could have landed from
she struggles with her suitcase
then suddenly sees me
I meant to ask her if I could help
but she leans closer
a hint of perfume teases my nose
she peers through the night at me
then looks disconsolate
“you are not he,” she says quietly
I cannot help my reply, “I’m sorry”
she studies me a moment
as if hoping I’ll change
she shrugs
“perhaps you should not be,” she says
and wrestles her suitcase past me
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