the most beautiful back of a head i have ever seen.

sitting on the train, i sway from side to side. rocking along with the train as it makes it's turns. i look up to see the most beautiful head i've ever seen. all i see is the back of the head, yet it is astounding to me. the simplicity of it shines brighter than the reflection of the train neon lights. the dark olive skin looks soft to touch, but not smooth. the divots and wrinkles give it personality, telling a story. a story that just needs to be interpreted. on that head, i see many kisses, from aunts, grandchildren, a wife, a daughter, a sister. within that head, i see thoughts, creations, fears, beliefs. i see my dead grandfather. i see my future husband. i see my father. i see my brother. i see my best friend. i see all the men i love, have loved, and will love, on the balding head of this man. still lost, completely engrossed in my thoughts-i begin to cry, not sobbing, but two tears slide down my cheeks. "next stop, metro center" the train conductor's sharp, clear voice cuts through my thoughts. i am sharply awoken back into reality as the man stands up to leave the train. the man who has invoked such thoughts and stirred such emotions within me. and all he did was sit there while i stared at the back of his head. as he walked out the train door, i looked up to say goodbye to the olive balding head. the man turned to me and smiled. the smile said something. it was a sympathetic smile, a smile that understood, a smile that said its okay. he walked out of the train while i turned up my ipod and began to doze.