evidence of invisibility number 43 thousand

a man in the elevator at work this morning asks me if i am new
i have worked in the office right next to his for 8 years
and i tell him so
he says, really?

really
i spend most of the rest of the day in a daze
checking permanent markers like beauty spots
and the existence of household bills

grab my cell phone and run
to the nearest camera i can find
in the public courtyard outside the building
ring my mother and breathless desperate shout:

can you see me?

can you see me?

i wave and wave and wave.
and no one looks
and i can't see her

yes, she says, calm as if the whole world hadn't almost negated itself beyond repair.

i convince myself she's waving back.