Shortly after the lackluster hugs that initiate our reunion,
we decide to walk the Brooklyn Bridge.
I describe what the Bridge looked like during the Uprising—
the cops, the chants, the clashes.
They don’t ask any follow-up questions.
It’s the 13th of June and we’re having trouble deciding on a film to watch.
So I ask you to say a word,
and I’ll match it with a movie.
An exercise existing somewhere in-between a Rorschach Test and Walter Benjamin.
I forget the word,
but we watch Y tu mamá también.