(jampacked
with passengers)

she caught him
staring at her
inside the train

how she rolled
her eyes
and twisted
her head
to avoid him

so he offered
his seat
for the woman
standing
far behind her

trying to save
his ego
and make her
feel small and
stupid
for once

sometimes when i’m up
late at night hugging my pillow
i ponder what love is

i muse if it’s asking about
someone’s day and truly
caring about the answer or
is it about being patient when
you’re really tired

then i imagine writing a note
of encouragement for a man
in my bedroom, lying there
in his checkered boxer shorts

i fantasize about buying him
flowers for no reason and
providing a shoulder to cry on

afterwards, i pray and ask God
“how many times do i have
to forgive him?” because i
want to be forgiven as well

on the same night
curling down under the covers
i am so certain of what love is

it is only when i get up
in the morning to experience
the real world that my
make-believe thoughts on love
are exposed