My Almost Romeo

There is something to be said about doing romantic things with unromantic people. About having picnics in Central Park with Italian wine and store-bought mozzarella cheese and assorted crackers, in the hopes of even slightly resembling Europe. About laying out on blankets in Bryant Park and watching  poorly delivered renditions of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, in desperate attempts to soak in every source of literature possible, regardless of quality. About getting on the last 6 train to Little Italy because of sudden hankerings for cannolis and gelato, despite having to spend the very last of dollar bills on subway fares. There is something to be said about existing in a medium so wonderfully crafted by things of love; but one where it cannot, and will not, exist.

Down in Downtown SoHo

Grand Central Terminal, 10:51 PM

A budding potential 

His green eyes resembled

As we exchanged apprehensive glances across the room.

A handsome young stranger

Smile speckled with just the right danger

Could he cure my never ending gloom?

Who is he?

Could he love me?

All questions asked much too soon.

Two lost souls

Daring to be bold

Silently juggle the odds of doom.

There was something in our silence

Be it reckless, or maybe violent

With power that beamed like the moon.

Because as our eyes locked

I admit my heart stopped

In that over-crowded and dimly lit room.