The Type

The Type

I know your type
(But not your font)
And I am casting about
To see past the hair
And the clothes
And the age
And gender,
Because
I am lonely too,
And I want to fall
Into your love.

You are the one
Working your way
Through school,
Slicing one too many bagels
Trying to really smile
At the next person in line,
While at the same time
Attempting to live with a dignity
Somewhere beyond
"Have a nice day!"

Did we just make eye contact?
And flash for a second
On each other in a way
That moved a step beyond
Judge and jury?
And moved perhaps,
Beyond this life
And circled round
To recognize
And humanize this moment?

Maybe you were the one
Who drew the peace symbol
In the hallway
By the bathrooms?
I know that type…