Row 7 Seat 28 |
by Renard Yearby |
She sits unaware of my stares She doesn't know who I am I watched as she moved across from me A sweet smile she gives She sits unaware of my stares Falling asleep she does, what is she thinking? What are her hopes? Her dreams? She sit unaware of my stares Lips full and soft Skin smooth as an Aztec princess She smiles in her sleep She sits unaware of my stares I don't dare go sit Do I wake her? Do I say hello? As I sit and write I am unaware of her stares |