This was the 11:02pm A Train on Nov. 30th… here is my poem: You get on the train, one stop after me. (34th St/Penn Station)
We make eye contact, longer than usual for strangers.
You have your luggage with you, there is no room to sit at this point, so you stand and wait.

I wonder, are you just leaving the city?
Are you arriving to the city?
Do you live here?
Are you just a tourist?

The seat next to me opens up at 23rd st.
I hope you sit next to me.
You take a seat next to me.
Internally, I am so happy.

Knowing I won’t ever say anything to you.
I then wonder to myself, how long will you be on this train?
Will you ride this to Brooklyn?
I continue to read my book.

We cross into Brooklyn.
I wonder, will you get off at my stop, Lafayette.
I convince myself, if we get off at the same stop, I will tell you that you have a beautiful smile.

I have now convinced myself that you live here.
No tourist would be as confident and comfortable as you are on the A train.
I want to tell you that you have a beautiful smile.
But in a non-threatening and polite way.

We get to Jay st-Metro tech and you still don’t flinch.
I convince myself we are getting off at the same stop.
I start to build courage to say something to you.
We get to Hoyt, you don’t move… then as the doors open you rush out.
Never to be seen again.