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# <center>**_Spinning on Her Head_**</center>

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<center>https://i.imgur.com/W1UjToM.jpg</center>

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<center>On the other side of everything, so it seems. 
A languid shadow floating above the heads of strangers, and I land on a puff of cloud in the middle of a crowded bus - unseen. 
Looking out the window, and the world is lost to the sound of traffic and the belaboured tick of a turn signal. 
The bus is destined for the same stop as it always is but I find myself roaming, roaming. 
Night, and the bus travels over a bridge above dark waters. 
The streetlights of the city become transposed on itself - reflected backwards in the view of the bus window. 
Two cities, perfectly identical, spinning head and tail like siamese planets observing each other across a sea of stars. 
It is their likeness that make their tandem drifting a dysphoric passage of time. 
Briefly leaning towards a world that seems so much their own, only to ebb back to their little pocket of reclusive space - gravity has no hold. 
I must be reflected backwards too. 
A girl spinning on her head in a realm just out of reach from conversation. 
Spinning on my head through the years only to bump into a few others from time to time, so it seems.
 And then, a glance captured - a sudden clap of a fly’s flight between two hands- I have been noticed. 
I see the looker too. 
Walking towards me as the engine stalls at a red light. 
A shared line of sight, 
the transference of a pulse, 
heartbeats carrel together, 
and then, and then - a free seat. 
Looker sits down. 
Sight is dropped. 
The nod of recognition cut short. 
Head turns back to fogged window and I am on that puff of cloud, inconspicuous to the warm bodies that fill this cramped place. 
Eyes limply scan the wet streets for nothing in particular and I count down the seconds until my vapoured breath turns into nothing.
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<center>https://i.imgur.com/5n2ncxU.jpg</center>

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<center>Health and Love, always
**Zameena Zen**</center>