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by beginningstoendings

Dear God, let him talk to me.

He’s thinking.

Beautiful thoughts he’s thinking.  His calf is only six inches away from my knee.  He’s gripping the strap instead of the bar—that’s so much cooler.  He isn’t afraid to sway with the motion of the bus.  His eyes are so green—there aren’t any other eyes that green.  His hair is so black.  He must be Irish.  God let him look at me, just this one.  I’ll be happy with just this one.  This one boy, this man.  He’ll bump my leg, he’ll turn to apologize and I’ll smile.  He’ll ask me what’s playing in my headphones (SHIT!  Why don’t I have my music!?).  He’ll talk about his classes, he’s a political science major, minoring in…film studies.  He’s seen Metropolis and thinks it’s a shame that it wasn’t popular when it first came out.  He’s seen Maelstrom, and thought the talking fish was tacky but it was amazing how Canadian films are getting so sleek.  His favorite films are from Spain and Mexico.  That one where the two guys kiss is a “hot” scene according to him.  He isn’t gay, just open-minded.  His name is Isaac, no Lee.  We’d drink espresso shots out of his machine (the one he bought used) and listen to soft music all Saturday afternoon.  He’s read On The Road four times, and tells me how the 60’s couldn’t have happened without the 50’s.  I tell him about Less Than Zero and how Brett Easton Ellis has captured the 80’s ‘Me’ culture.  We’d make love and he’d be respectful and a gentleman, undressing me first and holding me against his black vintage tee shirt with the witty cartoon.  He would know exactly what he was doing because he learned with his first girlfriend—he met her in high school.  She moved to New Zealand two years ago, they’re friends now but their relationship is “in the past.”  God let him look at me, just this once, this one person please.  Please listen!  He likes dogs better than cats, but owns a tabby (with an attitude, he says).  He is a bad driver and prefers to walk.

Just this one.

Christ he’s so beautiful, but ugly too, his nose is big…no strong.  He’d want to travel with me, first to Greece, than to Thailand and Ireland.  He has family in Ireland.  I think I can’t breath, the air in here is too thick.

He’s getting off the bus.

NO! God let him drop his number on my lap.  He’s heading to the engineering building. God let him turn and say something…