fishing the streets of Moscow

He wore Armadillo boots
and carried a fishing pole
through the streets of Moscow
like it was a life line
to the oceans of home

I wore sneakers and thick socks
easier for jumping the chain link fences
on my way out of places
I wasn’t supposed to be
concrete dust and broken glass
embedded in the soles of my shoes
my feet half frozen in the northern snow

We walked our own adventures
the wanderlust for new places
and new faces leading us here
to the crossroads of opportunity
and into each other’s arms

We met over chai and donuts
in a café with no English signs
his Russian better than mine
though with his thick American accent
it was hard to tell

He was funny and I was shy
I found him charming and he thought
the way I blushed at his charisma cute

We fucked in his rented apartment
with the kind of views I couldn’t pay for
I stole his wallet on the way out the door
and returned it the next morning
relieved of its cash

© Indie Adams 2015

Written for Madame Lavender's Pick a List comp, List #1