and the boy sits next to me, whatever
musk he might have lingering on him
devoured by the wind from the open doors
of the bus, letting others in.
secretly, i watch him out of the
corner of my eye, studying,
wondering why this average boy
draws my attention, so that I want to
stare at his plain visage.
the doors close and the bus suddenly
starts and he leans slightly against me.
i shift my weight on the hard seat,
feeling unworthy of his touch,
this plain, average boy,
but something about him is still
tugging at my eyes.
He looks like Jesus.