179: about a girl i would never get to know

she was sitting two feet away from me,
her bleached hair and beach eyes,
pouring glances on me like sand from a river bank.
i remember her now, and back then it was july, i think,
on a bumpy ride, beat up bus, on my way home in seattle, two 14 year olds making out in the corner of my eye.

and that day was very hot and i was in a bad mood,
i remember wanting to cry so so so desperately but not being able to,
choking down spit and a cold paper cup, half empty with coffee i waited too long to finish.
on my headphones i was listening to a song i knew all the words to,
i'd move my lips and nod my head and pretend i was in a movie,
and she probably knew too, the lyrics i mean, because the song was turned up too loud,
and i was stubborn and hated the noise of the evening,
and she kept glancing at me with those eyes, beach eyes,
lids i wanted to kiss.

and today i remembered her because i thought i saw her on the street.
i wonder what would have happened if i talked to her, took my headphones off, smiled crooked and afraid.
she probably didn't think she was pretty (and probably still doesn't)
but i did.

and what would have happened if i cried that day?
too hot, on the bus, air conditioner turned off but windows stayed closed.
i would have pretended to yawn, or rub my eyes,
smear watery tears on my legs like a prick pierced my palm, and hope she was not watching me.