you, across from me
exercising your
'right' to be a stranger-
our personalities
& public transport are
on uneven terms, so
we start a game
of darts;
you throw me your eyes, only
to have them thrown back
it's called 'bullseye'
because this dance-
of near misses
& stolen glance
makes us guilty of
red in shared blushes
(& horns in my pants)
stranger, there will come a time
you arrest me-
for revoking
your 'right'
to remain strange
& your permit to
bulldoze my heart.









