I see you ever day on the train headed into town, on the way to work and sometimes on the way back; our eyes meet once in a while, the hint of a shy smile dances on your face now and then, though I don’t know if it’s meant for me, or just a reflection of how you feel at the moment. You always sit by the window, near the back. You get on a few stops ahead of mine, when you can still get your pick of seats. I grab what I can, or stand, but I always try my best to end up in your line of vision. I like to start the day off looking at you, studying the way the sunlight sparkles off your golden hair, how your sleepy azure eyes brighten as you ease into your day, how your full ruby lips part as you laugh silently at some private joke or at the memory of a lover stumbling into buried treasure on a map you drew with the “X”s all marked perfectly, yet still he almost missed his cue. I don’t know what you do or have any idea of your name, yet you amaze me all the same. One of these days, I tell myself, I’ll sit or stand next to you, if the time is ever right, or when I find my courage, fat chance of that happening before my first cup of coffee. And maybe I won’t, after all; the sound of your voice could be all wrong, too high and squeaky to withstand critical scrutiny; I imagine you whispering, smoky, sultry, seductive, or innocent, tender, a little naive, all the more alluring for being so. Now we pull into the first downtown stop, You get off, and disappear into the crowd I stay on, get off at the next, lose myself in the flow of work and the loud buzz of the city as morning blends into afternoon; I know that soon I’ll see you again tonight or tomorrow a.m. after the sun rises or the rain pelts the windows of that next early train.Birth sign: Capricorn
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