at first glance
at first glance There’s a girl on the other side of a Hell’s Kitchen courtyard who smokes cigarettes out of her window while I blow puffs of something much thicker. And while I see her, I know she sees me, and it turns into this hide and seek game of ducking behind curtains while pretending to open and close sliding glass doors. But it’s evident that we see each other. And while I am unable to hone in on her blinking at me, I still somehow...