Friday, February 3

Stranger Angel

A man on the bus reminded me why
we run from wisdom we can't see.
I couldn't convince him that I believed
neither one of us completely understood
love in its current form. So we reasoned
through the logistics of selling cold air to
people in warm places. Packaging, we agreed
was the crucial element for selling nothing.
I appeared his negative image, with a sun tan,
but I'd be purple, like a people-eater, I thought,
before I understood love. I turned red,
thought he might convince me to
travel the world with him;
but, at the next stop he disappeared
into a crowd in Center City.

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