I saw a girl on the train who looked so scared A person With brown hair, A keen ability to predict the days weather forecast, and a glass bottle of homemade apple juice in the exterior pocket of her backpack But no one knew that Not even I am sure and I watched her the whole ride as she looked so scared I’m not sure if she was Or if I was Or if she was as scared as me when behind her He said, “there’s room right here” and his face looked like a pond not a peaceful one His mouth was a big curved log Making the pond a pond And not a water fall And his eyes looked like two boulders Ones that no one wants to sit on Because they’re too wet And hard And cold And they creased when he spoke, In little smile lines, He said, “there’s room right here” and he pointed to his right And I know he would say he was just being nice And maybe she thought he was just being nice too I’m not saying that she was convinced, But she shimmied her way in Between the bike rail and him And she looked so scared And I don’t know if she was But I was for her In a room of 5000 colors Constant motion and shifts of light I watched only his hands and his knees Thinking “His mouth is wood his eyes are stone, His fingers are fire, Do not touch her Do not touch her Leave her alone Do not touch her Even with your shirt brisk Even with your earphone falling Even with the strap of your “man bag” Do not touch her Because your fingers are fire And her arms are Cushions On patio swings in the summer. You are sweltering, simmering hot, But she is warmed by the sun. Do not touch her, She will burn And it is not because she is soft But also because she is so so soft And what is fucking wrong with that? What is wrong with being soft? Is it because you have sedimentary eyes? Well I want to push those boulders off a cliff” I’m not sure if she was scared at all, But I was so scared For her