Brown Afro hides brown eyes; glaring beneath it, want to unsheathe it. Red light, cigarette lit, let’s go home now, it’s way to busy. And in the taxicab, we hold hands and count the fare together, as the rain falls on the windows. Secret smiles abound, springing off each other, like warm glows and long legs. It’s amazing. Too amazing.
So we stop, I get out early, in the rain now, to walk home. Orange light above, I just hold my breath tight, as the cab goes, with the street flow. You frown away the smile, flick the butt out the window, sparks bouncing off the ground, we’re alone now. Together. So we will never talk, or meet another quite just like you, with your Afro.