Number 71

Number 71 on the field,
Helmet on but his glasses;
So recognizable.

That’s my lover,
Number 71.

The play starts and Number
71 throws the ball, it soars through
The air.

We win by one point, and I rush
To meet Number 71.

And there he is, Number 71
Sitting on the bench, his helmet
Off and hair gleaming in the sun.

I sit beside him, my head now
On his shoulder, and we watch
The sun set.

Then I wake up.