The Sound of Your Name

To The Lady on the Train, 

I want to have your name in my mouth; to let it fall from my lips casual, unburdened by weight.

I want the choreography of tongue and lips and throat to sound your name; to let it dance in the space between us. 

From the breath in my lungs, I want your name to echo in canyons. 

I am an un-rung bell wanting to reverberate your name; to let it take flight. 

The Man in the Station