A young and beautiful French girl,
dark hair, pale skin, big, brown eyes.
Glamourous dress, white and black,
looking beatifically from a magazine.
The Amtrak train moves on and on
towards Baltimore, then New York.
Dim and muted blue of the sunrise;
I can look at the picture, not words.
Another picture, ivory white swimsuit
as she swims in a clear swimming pool.
Long dark hair behind her, the night
being blown back by the morning sun.
I carry my few clothes, notebooks,
paperbacks and phone in a duffel.
Wear simple pants, t-shirt, ball cap.
I am plain in appearance, bland, even.
The sun is rising, hot golden light in
a cold and uncomfortable train car.
I look at the French girl, sleight of hand,
whether God or sex, we want escape.