Transitory love.

hello love,

do you mind if i call you that?

here in my mind all secret and quiet

like a habit that we don't even notice anymore,

and you turn your head to it

as if it were your name.

I don't know it-

your true name.

You have been Angeline,

Guinevere, and Jane as the light hits you.

I played with Marie for a day

but you have too much of a bite,

something that has consonants you can chew on.

I decided on Janette

with the extra letters to set you apart.

I picture your parents

all glowing and panting with the newness

of being fresh defined by the small screaming you-thing

rolling the name around between their teeth

stretching the vowels into a song

and then snapping their mouths shut over the final syllable

as if already fearing your escape into the wild world

away from them.

Thats what you look like to me

every time you board the bus

like a thing on the verge of escape

I wonder if you would let me run with you.

Perhaps not

I lack the courage.

Its why I'm siting here

calling you love in my head

and wondering if I'll ever know your name.

I almost asked today.

But the board flashed Suttle and you stood to exit.

Perhaps tomorrow.

Mind the gap.