Even the crowd

She could stand in a crowd of
any type of people, and
emit more presence than all.

I picture us sometimes, alone
standing close, and

listening

to the silence's offbeat rhythm
and thinking is it.....you know?

It could be, but it won't, so...

Standing as close as possible, faces
drifting into each-others space
but a hair's width away
hovering,
pushing air
back and forth
brushing past our tongues, and

again, it feels like....you know?

I get the impulse to force forward
tasting those swollen, luring lips

I could, but I shouldn't, so I won't.

As she stands in that crowd surrounded
by people that don't exist to her;

I tell myself "I do exist!"
still, she fails to see me.

Even the crowd is a dream.