by Wynne Benjamin Renz

The girl on the mat next to me
Too shy to even ask a waitress for an extra napkin,
Or admit her dreams of screen stardom,
Touches my hand by accident, in corpse pose, says:
“I’m sorry,”
And then in a quick drink,
She remembers her therapist telling her to
Take a chance, skin that fence,
So she bites her tongue, makes a reach
Into the dark, that great silent scape
To grab hold of
My hand.

WB Renz is an adorable and adventurous writer and namer in Los Angeles. For more of her work visit her blog, Only this time it’s real and just more beautiful.