Thank you, Stranger, for your theraputic smile.
ch. 5
Pay the fare, pay the fare.
Hope there's enough in the pockets for something tommorrow.
With your luck, no.
Sit down. Assume positions.
Shoes become the center of your eyesight.
Stop stop stop.
No no no.
Focus.
Sit together.
Still so awkward.
Theories on love cross your mind and tangle.
Theories on your love cross.
Forget that now.
Them. They. That's the thing.
The heartbeats of the two,
Never seemed in tune with anyone else.
But now there's a beat. A steady beat.
A new experience for both. Leave their mark on the heart and head.
And heart again.
Recall a line. Soul mates.
Never would that come to you, in another type of night.
But this isn't ordinary. Nothing here's ordinary.
No normal thoughts. Natural.
They're talking again. Music?
No, you can understand the words now.
Themselves.
Selfish,
No.
Talking about their obscure traits.
She says she loves onion bagels.
He says he's an insomniac.
She laughs.
Not dry, not warm. Something in between. Something to settle to.
His face reflecting hers.
Didn't know that was possible.
True love sounds like something a lonely old man made up.
But magical nights like this seem to change the way you think.
Let it get to you. S(l)eep in.
Talking. Talking.
Conversations.
Knowing each other.
Might be help.
Don't let yourself get lost in them.
But, maybe, that wouldn't be too bad.
Let it go.
Ears extend farther than they should.
About to concentrate on the words rather than the feeling behind them,
When the world seems to jerk forward.
No, it's just the bus.
Lost in thought, follow them out.
Hope they don't mind.
Hope they don't see.
Let yourself get lost. Do something risqè.
Be someone else for just one night.
It could do one like you a world of good.
Look up and see their shadows.
And we're back to following.
Let yourself get lost.
Hope there's enough in the pockets for something tommorrow.
With your luck, no.
Sit down. Assume positions.
Shoes become the center of your eyesight.
Stop stop stop.
No no no.
Focus.
Sit together.
Still so awkward.
Theories on love cross your mind and tangle.
Theories on your love cross.
Forget that now.
Them. They. That's the thing.
The heartbeats of the two,
Never seemed in tune with anyone else.
But now there's a beat. A steady beat.
A new experience for both. Leave their mark on the heart and head.
And heart again.
Recall a line. Soul mates.
Never would that come to you, in another type of night.
But this isn't ordinary. Nothing here's ordinary.
No normal thoughts. Natural.
They're talking again. Music?
No, you can understand the words now.
Themselves.
Selfish,
No.
Talking about their obscure traits.
She says she loves onion bagels.
He says he's an insomniac.
She laughs.
Not dry, not warm. Something in between. Something to settle to.
His face reflecting hers.
Didn't know that was possible.
True love sounds like something a lonely old man made up.
But magical nights like this seem to change the way you think.
Let it get to you. S(l)eep in.
Talking. Talking.
Conversations.
Knowing each other.
Might be help.
Don't let yourself get lost in them.
But, maybe, that wouldn't be too bad.
Let it go.
Ears extend farther than they should.
About to concentrate on the words rather than the feeling behind them,
When the world seems to jerk forward.
No, it's just the bus.
Lost in thought, follow them out.
Hope they don't mind.
Hope they don't see.
Let yourself get lost. Do something risqè.
Be someone else for just one night.
It could do one like you a world of good.
Look up and see their shadows.
And we're back to following.
Let yourself get lost.