Man on the train

My favorite passenger got on the L taraval bus today. I don't know who he is. I never talk to him. He is an older business man, maybe in his mid-40's, but he's so handsome to me. I admire him from afar.

And he looks just like someone I slept with in the past. He has salt and pepper hair, big brow bones, and a diminutive chin. He is tall, scrawny, and his lean stature makes the bones in his face very prominent.

I want to kiss his cheeks, nibble on his ears, and run my hands in his hair. It's utterly innappropriate. My far out fantasties have us exit the train to find a hotel, or just a park bench where I would make out with him in a shameful fury. Until now, I'll just admire the veins and bones in his hands while he refolds the paper to read the comics.