the shadow of the coffee shop boy,
the ghost of the golden locks

without a word,
he lives in my imagination.

maybe he has cats.
i bet he has sisters.

did he notice me too?

did he notice
the way my posture changed
when he walked in?
the way i stood
at the same time as him—
our hands brushing,

did he notice my smile?

the one on the train
we locked eyes once,
just once,
before he slipped away
at the next stop,
his nose buried in his phone.

does he remember me?
does he wish he got my name?

i wish i got his name.

i wish i could slip
into the minds of boys,
soar through their thoughts,
searching for something—
confirmation
that it’s not all in my head.

when our eyes lock
for one second too long,
you notice it too?

when the corners of your lips
start to curl—
i notice it too.

i love you, coffee shop boy.
i love you, train station boy.
i love you, dancing phantoms.

i love chasing shadows