Listen to poem:
fantasy i
aboard the 71, about halfway down the left side
i sit facing forward, heart leaping as he embarks—
he’s on the way to the grocery store,
or his sister’s house,
or work, but he’s running late;
standing room only
he grabs a handle facing me.
he catches my eye and i his,
waves at me with all five fingers and
i wish to hold them in mine, trace
the outline of the bones in his hand,
look into his eyes deeply,
see what’s true;
two stops later, a seat opens up on the right—
one row ahead.
dark, curly hair.
i take measured glances,
don't stare don't draw unwanted attention.
i want his arms around me,
to look into his eyes some more.
he disembarks.
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