i missed my stop - and her

so last night i missed my stop.

i sat across from the tired mother in her nursing uniform and her three year old daughter who seemed to be wide awake for the 5am A-Train downtown from harlem.

i thought about everything.
i thought about how great the day would have been had i opened my eyes this morning and she was snoring lightly beside me, smelling like cucumber melon shower gel and vanilla body spray.

i thought about how slow this train was, and how little i cared because i had nothing to do when i got home or no one to tell about the pretty little girl across from me who kept plucking her half-sleeping mother's kneecaps then looking at me for a laugh.

i smiled.

in a 45 second nod i dreamt of the one i've been thinking about all day.
we sat quiet on a couch, smiling.
she'd look at me when i turned my head to look out of the window
but i could see her staring.
she wanted to kiss.

so did i.
i turned from the window and her eyes shot to my tightly tied sneakers and not-so-skinny jeans.

i kissed her hard.
i kissed her to let him know she'd never have to ask 'how do you feel about me?'
i kissed her because i needed her to feel where i was coming from when i said 'i'm really feeling you.'

she kissed me back.

i woke up craving a red starburst from the blue pack.
the conductor announced my stop was next.

i pulled the pack of juicy deliciousness from my bag.
(yes...juicy deliciousness)

i chewed fast.
this was the taste on her lips when i drove eight hours to find out for the first time.

this is why i craved the blue pack of starbursts from time to time.

the little hand of the little black girl across from me stopped plucking her mother's knee and began reaching out for what i had.

i gave her the purple one
and began telling her all about boys and which ones to look out for.
her mother would smile between her eyes cracking open slightly.

i told her:

'one day you will find yourself speeding down some major u.s. highway hoping that your phone's battery survives the distance, because once you arrive at your destination you will want to call him and let him know you're outside.'

she sat there with a sticky chin, but focused.
this little black girl was funny.

i told her:

'someday you will smack yourself and cringe with shame because you didn't really want to put all of your emotions out there to be left vulnerable.'

she laughed.

i finished:

'never enter a relationship with used emotional baggage. buy new.'

she giggled with no clue what was being said.
kids have always been my best audience.

the train began slowing.
i pocketed my starbursts and stood up.

the little hand of the little black girl stretched further and she giggled:

'one more please.'

i put one in her hand and one on her mother's lap so she'd smile when she opened her eyes.

the train stopped.

what would 5am feel like holding her hand? to stand waiting for the stop, her holding on to my neck while i grab the pole to keep from falling hard.

in the few seconds that passed i missed everything.
falling on the bed kissing.
staring out of the window holding on to her pinky.
her.

the sleeping mother opened her eyes and smiled when the doors opened.
she said:

'someday - when she grows up...
she's going to fall in love with men just like you
and not know why.
but i will'

the door shut.
i missed my stop.

i wondered what the sun was doing.

so last night i missed my stop.