I had work so I
took the train to
Sacramento.

There was a beauty
on the train with
red lips and a petite frame.

She sat beside me,
and called herself Lea,
and smelled of flowers mostly.

I wanted to kiss her lips
and hear her heart beat
and grab the fabric at her hips.

We both got off in Sacramento
but she went right and I went left
and that was the last of the pretty girl I didn't know.

I watched the car hit her
I rushed to her side,
but it was too late; she already died.

(qtsp)