Heartbreaker in a hoodie, face hidden, a show of dark hair
on this rainy January morning in Tennessee.
Are your eyes closed in thought, in dreams, in wishes for something better,
are there any thoughts of you and me?
The back of the bus, first on, 6 am, I sit opposite you, just to be near you,
see that downturned face coming up the aisle.
Headphones a must, we’re doing time in a place that is not our own,
just hear those song, and forget for awhile.
The sun creeps up in the cut open sky, the clouds haloed by all that bright blood.
The golden blades of sunlight shimmer through your hair.
To say hello, to tell you I am lost in this world, with only dreams to keep,
to ask to talk, if I can stand by your side, I don’t dare.
Not communing when souls have never touched, by I dream your ghost into my arms,
in these quiet moments, this sweet winter quiet.
We hold the galaxies in our eyes, the angels in our hearts, the blood of life in dreams,
though our downcast eyes, and silent lips belie it.
The school comes up now, 7:30, the sun still a gentle friend, distant and golden,
that drab brick building where we spend these strange days.
I want to squeeze your hand, say we can make it through it again, make it out.
But I just watch you go, following like penetant, unsure of his ways.