In Passing

I met a boy
in a hostel in New Orleans.
I see him
lean, leonine blond, washed-out
t-shirt. I remember
no more
except we talked
about God and goodness and
I believed
for the first time
that I might be
someone somebody
could love.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s