Daniel Romo

In Due Time

She sat across from me
Behind the travel section
On the second floor of the bookstore,
Her hair still wet from the shower.
I wanted to walk over and tell her
How sexy I thought
Girls with wet hair are,
Or ask her if she'd like to go downstairs
And get to know each other
Over overpriced scones
And macchiato,
Or…
Have her put her Cosmo down
And close her eyes,
Embracing the goose bumps
The flirty, grainy sound my pencil induces
As it continuously slides
Across the page.
I'll have her imagine
Intimate tropical islands
I'm writing about,
Where we dissect Dickinson
In a tiny, bamboo cabana
Surreptitiously serenaded
By the staccato
Of an impromptu August rain.
Picture us holding hands
Walking along cobblestone streets
In rich European towns
Whose names we can't pronounce.
Feel my caring finger
Wipe the mustard
From the corner of her mouth,
Because one can't go to Coney Island
Without visiting Nathan's.
She sat across from me
Behind the travel section
On the second floor of the bookstore,
Her hair still wet from the shower.
I wanted to walk over…
I wanted to walk over.

CP

Daniel Romo lives in Southern California and teaches high school there. He has been published in various forums, and is currently seeking admittance into a rather swell low residency MFA program. He strives to be witty and relevant in his poetry, but claims to use first person too much. He's addicted to SportsCenter and thinks gray sky the utmost inspiration.