she sleeps on the floor of the san francisco airport.

her head rests on my jacket, i took it off for her.

these places are so full of windows, light washes over everything.

two small children enter the bathroom with their father, a girl sips water in yellow shoes.

there is little for me left in the place we are going.

a city by the water, one i will return to many times in the next few years, the reasons for returning, less clear every time.

now she moves under a light layer of sleep, reaches out, and settles again on the floor.