Beautiful Man

On BART reading on the train. The view looked like a perfect Instagram photo I could have taken, if only I had Instagram. A view of my opened book, and the seat in front of me. To the side, the beauty of the sun emitting heavenly light. The feelings the light reveals in this horizon can only be felt in a few minutes. As soon as the sun rises to the top, the feelings change. This view of the early morning horizon shelters the city from the external darkness, but not the internal darkness in our hearts. Yes, it is definetely morning.

To the seats in front of me, I notice something different. It's a Beautiful Man. I see Men all the time in their seats, but I really noice this one. But I did not stare at him. I just caught an outline of him in a split second while my eyes were on its way to glance at the door. Oakland Coliseum. This is Oakland Coliseum, the train conductor announces.

In that instance however, I could remember what I noticed about him. Shades. I didn't see him. I didn't look into his eyes. But I felt he was wearing shades. Blade shades that cover his eyes completely. Shades showing his ability to look at everything conspicuously by rolling his eyes, without moving his head to achieve a glance. Shades that cool people wear. Shades like Stevie Wonder. And woah, was this man a wonder. He could even be sleeping. His arms were crossed. His legs spread out. His neck was fat, so I couldn't tell if his head was tilting downward or facing forward, but still, regardless, his head was in perfect posture. A gorgeous head.

Exquisite neatly symmetrical beard. It was no Santa Claus, but he had one. Was it shaven? Maybe a little bit. I could have looked at him again, but my anxious nerves refuses to. I'm listening to my music, pretending to read my book but imaginging what the book is about. All at the same time marveling at this beautiful man. I imagine him with a red cap.

I glance in the quick 1/10000 second noticing how the sunlight's rays reflects his hand. What a beautiful hand. A beautiful hand for a beautiful man.

He had a woman. A beautiful man with a woman all enhances his attractiveness. His beautiful hand grasps tightly the top of her hand, signalling it is time to get up, and go. To work? To the airport? The Oakland Coliseum is also the exit to the airport. The possibilities of the next few hours in their lives are endless. This is Oakland Coliseum afterall. But man, did his Beautiful Man hold her hand! Yes, man, yes motherfucker, hold her hand. Grasp her hand and never fucking let go. Hold it to your heart, bitch. Hold her fucking hand til death devours your soul. Hold her fucking hand for all eternity. Let love last forever. Let us define love. Only can a group of people; only the human species as a whole can define love. Let the illusion of love exist.

The sun was already up by the time the couple left the train.