♥
He’s sitting there
With a cap pulled down across his face
Drinking something lukewarm
That was cold an hour ago
Staring at me
And pretending he’s not.
♥
He doesn’t know
I have x-ray vision
And the ability to read minds
And if he did
He’d probably jump up
And go running off like a rabbit.
♥
He’s shy but he’s cute
I can see he’s got a hole in him
Big as the Grand Canyon
But nevertheless,
With a hammer and a few nails
He could be mended in no time
By the right carpenter.
♥
I work for a carpenter
So I know about this stuff
I understand levels and saws
And three quarter nails
And hammering
With just the right touch
(Not many girls work with wood.)
♥
We’re sitting in a park
And there’s a Dutch band singing
Some obscure something from the Netherlands
And the locals are trying to make out
Like they’re sophisticated enough
To understand it
But they don’t have a clue
It might as well be written in Klingon.
♥
He lets out a sigh
And acts like he’s going to get up
He’s lying on an old quilt
That looks like he’s had it since college
There’s a book of Rumi, a New Testament
And a half eaten cheeseburger
Made out of soy and egg whites
That’s being carried away by an army of ants
(But they’re not gonna like it, either.)
♥
A girl comes through the crowd
Selling LED plastic roses
And Star Wars swords and bracelets
And I think for a moment
That he’s gonna buy me something
I feel him thinking about it
He reaches for his wallet, puts it back
And shrugs.
♥
Damn! I really wanted that pink plastic rose!
He turns away from me now
To peruse the other side of the park
And I look at the picture I just took of him
With my micro mini digital ink pen
And I grin
He really is cute.
♥
Maybe I should spill something on him, I think
Otherwise, we’re gonna be here all afternoon
And the unintelligible concert is gonna end
And he’s gonna leave and I’m gonna leave
And we’ll never learn one another’s names
Or go have that cup of coffee I’m dying for
What to do? What to do?
♥
The sun has set and it’s beautiful
I stand up with my arms full of stuff,
Drop my purse and it’s contents fly out everywhere
Most of the stuff is so embarrassing
I don’t even want to claim it
Dollar store do-dads and lipsticks and gum
I write it off and walk away.
♥
I’m halfway to my car
When I hear a voice behind me
And I turn and it’s the guy in the cap
“Excuse me, miss, I think this heart is yours.”
And I turn and he’s holding a big red glass heart
That I’ve been carrying around as long as I can remember
For no particular reason that I know.
♥
I look at the heart and I look at him
And I’m as tongue tied as I ever have been
And I say, “No, I think that heart belongs to you.”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” he says
And deposits the object into his shirt pocket,
Tilts back his head,
And shows me the face under the cap.
♥
“I was just planning to have a cup of coffee,”
“Would you care to join me?” he asks quietly
And I nod yes and shove all my junk in my car
He’s got his quilt thrown over his shoulder
And he’s still holding that bottle of lukewarm whatever
And he’s motioning towards a vehicle of indeterminable color.
♥
“How about that band? Weren’t they great?!” he says
And I look at him with my x-ray eyes
And see that he’s testing me
And that he’s laughing his butt off inside
“I’ve heard better music around a pond.“ I say finally
And he smiles approvingly and takes my arm.
♥
He leads me to his car and opens the door
I get in like I’ve known him all my life
And I feel perfectly safe and perfectly content
He turns the ignition and a mix tape starts playing
Some otherworldly combination
Of country, blues, reggae, rock, indie
Spoken word poetry and gospel.
♥
He pushes back the cap
And looks me straight in the eye
“I hope you don’t think I’m too forward,” he says
And clears his throat
“But I’ve been watching you watching me for hours
And I’ve never met anyone with x-ray eyes before,
What’s your diagnosis?”
♥
“I think I can help you.” I say
And reach out and lay my hand on his heart
“I think I know exactly what’s wrong
And how to fix it
And I think I’m here not a moment too soon.”
And he grins and I grin and the fireworks go off
As the twilight starts falling
And the awful band screeches to a sci/fi grinding halt
In the middle of a Dutch/Klingon lyric.
♥
♥
by Voo copywrited
May 22, 2011
3:53 p.m.
♥
QA TLHO’ to my Muse*
(thank you in Klingon
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