Everyday he passes by her door
Never gaining the courage to knock
The name on the mailbox-
C. Angeles-
Left him with a smile
But everyday when he passed, he saw her
Long hair billowing,
Smile intoxicating,
Eyes laughing
He realized he never had a chance

Everyday the same boy walked past her gate
Jet black hair,
Eyes the color of the sea,
Lips like a rose
Notes he dropped named him J. Lawrs
Everyday when he stopped
She waived, but he never saw

He sits alone in the living room
Flipping through books from his childhood
And sees her
Angeles
He used to pass by her everyday
Thought she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen
A scrap from a newspaper falls out
It rests on his shoe
“Christin Angeles- Dead at 29 from accident”
A note scrawled beneath
“Next time, don’t wait.”

His wife enters the room
Looking over his shoulder she says
“Who was that?”
“Someone I wished I’d talked to”