We
probably passed each other
more
than once along that stretch of beach
back
when we both thought California
offered
some escape,
me,
a lost soul struggling to find myself
in
any big city other than New York
and
you, a free spirit dancing
in
sunset and moonbeats,
and
spirit I never saw,
though
in my haze of desire and panic
I
must have dreamed of someone like you,
Thinking
of you as goddess or angel
wonder
how a man like me might
draw
the gaze of someone like you
a
most, perhaps, too ordinary man back then
not
yet certain about life or self or desire
only
that I ached all the time
and
wanted someone to help east of the pain
of
being alone, of being ordinary, of being human
passing
goddesses on the street
or
on that beach, without ever knowing it.
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