Jun 2018
We sit on the train, the past in our shadows,
slowly moving towards our next chapter in
life. The sky is darkened blue and steady
changing. The shimmering lights in our sight
are flashing a wave of new beginnings.
The vibrant crowd surrounding our way smile
in our direction and converses a little. I look
at the melanin magic of your skin, how it enchants
my eyes and enlivens the radiance in my cheeks.
I can see a new life in you within me, the way you sit
positioned in your seat, the way your depictions
embodies the art of a gentleman, how a complex man
has defeated the odds to become a brilliant businessman.
I stare away from you into the vivid view encompassing me,
a pecan-skinned man gazing straight ahead out the window
at the blurred scenery passing his eyesight, while a middle
aged woman rummages through her purse, perhaps searching for her berry lipstick to bring back her youth, as a young mother and her daughter read a book named The Little Engine That Could, their hands fumbling through the soft surface of the pages.
I can see a young teenage boy playing on his smartphone like he’d
won the lottery, while an almond tanned woman around age twenty,
twirls her dark smooth hair looking at the others in her path, her deep glowing eyes lost in the magnificent beauty that possessed inside out, her twisting hips demanding praise amongst the masses.
I watch a couple of kids throw paper airplanes in the air, their eager
faces gazing at how far it hovers above them, how they burst out with bets and seeing who will be victorious in the end. There’s a young athlete pressed against his char with his earphones in his ear, humming to The Weeknd’s song, Starboy. I look back in your presence and slightly grin, my thin hands on the arm of your thighs, my heart on the surface of your inner existence.
slowly moving towards our next chapter in
life. The sky is darkened blue and steady
changing. The shimmering lights in our sight
are flashing a wave of new beginnings.
The vibrant crowd surrounding our way smile
in our direction and converses a little. I look
at the melanin magic of your skin, how it enchants
my eyes and enlivens the radiance in my cheeks.
I can see a new life in you within me, the way you sit
positioned in your seat, the way your depictions
embodies the art of a gentleman, how a complex man
has defeated the odds to become a brilliant businessman.
I stare away from you into the vivid view encompassing me,
a pecan-skinned man gazing straight ahead out the window
at the blurred scenery passing his eyesight, while a middle
aged woman rummages through her purse, perhaps searching for her berry lipstick to bring back her youth, as a young mother and her daughter read a book named The Little Engine That Could, their hands fumbling through the soft surface of the pages.
I can see a young teenage boy playing on his smartphone like he’d
won the lottery, while an almond tanned woman around age twenty,
twirls her dark smooth hair looking at the others in her path, her deep glowing eyes lost in the magnificent beauty that possessed inside out, her twisting hips demanding praise amongst the masses.
I watch a couple of kids throw paper airplanes in the air, their eager
faces gazing at how far it hovers above them, how they burst out with bets and seeing who will be victorious in the end. There’s a young athlete pressed against his char with his earphones in his ear, humming to The Weeknd’s song, Starboy. I look back in your presence and slightly grin, my thin hands on the arm of your thighs, my heart on the surface of your inner existence.
