I saw him, waiting for the bus,
a stark contrast to the usual hues that ride;
the mahogany’s, chestnuts, and burnt ember.
He glanced at me, sunlight reflecting off his crystalline eyelashes,
and I looked away, afraid of what he might see.

For you see, his eyes, surrounded by these icicles,
seemed to burn into my very soul…
as if he could read what was written on it.
I was sure, that if he saw, he would somehow disapprove.

We got on the bus.

Amidst the chatter and laughter, he sat,
silent and still.
I couldn’t look away…
he seemed to shimmer in the light of the morning’s rays.

I realized I was holding my breath.
But he never looked my way again.
I don’t know why, but this boy,
this angel,
seemed to sear my very flesh.

Weeks went by.

Although I watched every day,
he never appeared.

Until today.

I sat, staring out the window at the filth that made up our city.
I felt him sit beside me, and without a glance,
I knew it was he.
And then I felt him smile.

Early morning, isn’t it? he whispered.
I looked up, shy in his radiance.
He ran a hand through his shock of white hair.
I nodded, suddenly mute.

Ash, he said, reaching a hand to me.
That’s my name.

Ash.
The name suits him.
I say it once, rolling it around in my mouth
as it melts on my tongue.

I take his hand,
and shake it firmly,
and then in a rush, the words come.

We talk about the weather,
of politics, and religion,
arguing science and the very nature of life itself.
Our laughter bounces off the windows,
is absorbed in the seats,
and its music fills the heads of the other passengers.
They smile.

It is a feeling of falling.
Freedom of fear.
His husky voice entrances me,
and I can’t take my eyes off him.

And all too soon, it’s over.

The doors open,
and we all file out, separating in the street to go our different ways.

He touches my hand,
making the hairs on my arm stand on end.
I hold back the words,
don’t go. Stay awhile. Don’t leave me.
But he silences my thoughts with a single word.

Tomorrow?

I smile.