– HAT YAI TO BANGKOK Rattling of the disgruntled wheels. Clinks of glasses and clanking trays. A hiss from the kitchen and loud laughter Crashing like waves on the greasy table tops, breaking Before they reach us, lost in the din of our restaurant car. A wizened face, his visage, wise with age. Each wrinkle around his eyes a story; The twinkle in his eyes, his favorite one. About his love. For her, he had changed his religion. Grown old together, had two children. I look at the stranger across the table Who will forever be a part of my face, My lines, my stories. His story Has found a place at the corner of my lips, Curled up in a smile.