Crossings

Written November 4, 2010

there’s a beautiful mind under those baseball caps
(which have never been more captivating),
and all the time I wonder what runs through it.

how often do I wander into your thoughts?
‘cause I can say you’re rarely leaving mine—

can’t think of many things the same
now that they’ve been laced with you
from the memories of our conversations.

Starbucks Coffee and the forty-ninth state
are a little less trivial now;
art projects and the del operator
have new meaning somehow.

you can throw an eighth grade spelling test
and I’ll take a dive on an iodine lab;
you and I can come here for the wrong reasons,
but at least one of us can get out of this place
knowing what happiness a person can bring.

you’re not the one who’s rambling here.
and maybe neither of us is—

‘cause I feel a balance between us,
a connection, an understanding—

or maybe I’m just insane and naïve,
or blinded by the world in my head,

but somehow an old Bruins hat,
that grad student casual look,
and the occasional disheveled
unshaven face you’ve got there
do me in at least as much as
all the quirks and eccentricities
I learn about you every day.

(I never get tired of them, by the way.)

so what’s one intentional encounter?

I never expected to fall for you,
but I’ll let myself take a risk.
despite all you’ve turned around,
eleven still doesn’t mean anything—

and even if it does to you,
can I cross your mind and change it?

something’s worth it here.