as he sat next to me in the coffee house
where people alone in crowds gather
Sitting in groups isolated by the lure of a laptop
and a cup of something trendy.
He sighed as his head fell quietly to my shoulder
bringing back an old memory from my youth
when on a crowded bus passing a bad part of town
the boy next to me fell asleep
and his head fell on my shoulder the same way.
An older woman took pity on my paralyzing confusion
opening the window she laughed and said:
He's nodded off baby. He's high...high....high
I was stupid then. (Not to say I'm not now.)
But something was different this time around
I looked and felt him moving dense into the curve of my shoulder without a pulse.
No breath. No life. And I knew he was dead
for his soul moved through my body as he passed.
I sat there for a moment wondering why.
Then, for some reason I cannot really explain,
for this person was a stranger. No face. No name.
As all the other no ones annoyed by the interruption stared
I cried. inconsolable, i cried.