i thought you sat down on the train next to me today.
for a moment, i thought you sat down next to me.
{and i couldn’t breathe.}
there was something about how he shifted in his seat and held his hands and tugged at his sweater that made me think he was you.
and i looked up at his reflection in the subway windows across the way and right away i could see it wasn’t you.
{and a little bit of air escaped between my lips.}
but damn if the way in which he tilted his head didn’t feel like you.
and so i nearly didn’t believe it–couldn’t believe it. so much did i both want and need and fear he might be you that i made liars of my eyes.
and sitting there, next to a total stranger, i nearly reached for his knee, nearly pressed my shoulder into his, half-expected him to take my hand.
because if all i could get was a shadow of you, a ghost of you, an i’ll-just-close-my-eyes-and-pretend-version-of-you i’d take it.
if i couldn’t have you, i’d take someone who felt like you–even, and if only, for a moment.
i’d take ten minutes, on the train, next to a total stranger, and a sliver of a daydream.
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