They Don’t Know My Name

I walk into a library
tighten the mask around my ears
choose a table in the furthest corner
of the room.
No one comes over.
“Good,” I think to myself.
“It’s good to social distance.”
I say that as if I wouldn’t have distanced myself anyway.
The girl with the braids smiles,
waves.
I nod. Afraid to speak.
She might think I’m friendly and come over.
She carries her book over to the table
on the other side of the room
away from me.
“Good,” I say to myself again.
I don’t feel like discussing the book she has in her hands.
I wonder if she knows how to pronounce the name.
I wonder if she knows the author
is sitting over here in the corner
trying not to be seen.