The photo was good light —

The photo was good light —

morning, a house behind him,

a kid leaning into his leg.

Five years here, the caption said,

and the name of a town

he'd mentioned once, years ago,

about wanting to go back to.

He went back.

I spent twenty minutes on the page.

His job title. His wife's name

visible in tagged photos.

The way he was standing —

weight on one foot,

not going anywhere.

We sat in the same classroom once

and made the same kinds of choices

until we didn't.

Now he's five years somewhere

and I'm three apartments into a city

I keep saying I'll leave.

The light in his photo was good.

He looked like someone

who doesn't lie awake

doing the math.

I closed the tab.

The math was still there.