Graffiti

Some found words
written on
a bus seat’s
creamy white
top cover:

“You lonely?
Come, call me.
We’ll both have
lots of fun.
I’ll make you
be happy.”

Artly you 
scrawled with blue
ink against
tarpaulin
your numbers
enticing
me to press
your digits
and connect.
Cautiously
I studied
your cursives,
the tremble
in each loop
looking for
danger signs.

Finding none
and the far
station’s now,
finally,
been reached,
I stood up
and quickly
left the bus.