You Are Here

You Are Here

You are here, here you are
on the map before you,
represented by the red triangle.

The map talks right to you,
the city’s noise flattened
into placid shapes. The directive

is implied, you are here,
but want to go elsewhere,
so go on, turn left or right, scram.

Here you are, the map
and you, searching one
another equally. You lean toward

the map, it enters you,
fluttering behind your face.
This recognition will never leave,

best to accept this,
to hold the map close,
pat its flatness, saying, you are here.