Sexual Perpetual EmotionMachine*

I am feeling a little bit broken.

Those who claim Toronto is too big have probably never run into a former lover twice in the span of twenty-four hours.

I have to get off of a streetcar prematurely because I am coughing much too much. I stumble upon the Spadina Quay Wetland, which I did not know existed. In the middle of a majestic nest, metres away from a major street, a swan is preening himself. There is a burgundy-and-yellow Coffee Time sign in the background. It's so incongruous that it could almost be funny - if it weren't so goddamned heartbreaking, I mean.

He looks at me and I look away.

I wonder if he realizes how beautiful he is. Or if he ever will.

Hours later, I attend a dear friend's poetry reading at the Gladstone Hotel. I ask him to sign my copy of his book, as a cheesy gesture.

I only read what he has written on the subway ride home:

For Sofi: You are a heartbreaker. I long for time with you.

I am feeling a little less broken.

(Now playing: "The Man of Metropolis Steals our Hearts", Sufjan Stevens)

*From "The World is a Heartbreaker" by Sherwin Tjia