he is the ocean

he led me through the projects circa 1960.
low hi-rises with a view of the bleak, sunless sky.
the layout reminded me of Queens,
a road, a street, a boulevard
all numbered the same.

i had an address in my pocket,
and asked someone for directions.
Kios and his friend offered assistance,
any other time I would have said no.

flashback to the subway ride:
red and grey brick buildings,
blurry white letters on a sign.

we turn a corner, Kios turns to me.
Deep blue eyes, serious, honest.
He'll take you the rest of the way.
Then he is gone, like a ghost.

the wind and the surf stir my senses
there, a window.
Is that the ocean?
He holds out his arm,
and leads me through.
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