I love you
when you run
to catch the train.
your perfume surges
and when you collapse
in disappointment
I swoon
except for
the scowl of contempt
that pulls
the next train forward
greeted
by your beautiful jaded eyes.
I sit
two rows
and half a world
behind you
waiting
for the next connection.
Paul David Mena
4 December, 1996
Somerville, MA
