The yearning can be simple.
A good parking space,
A lab technician, dreaming
of a girl who works in the coffee shop,
the curve of her lower back, the tiny
tattoo on her right shoulder.
my blood-smeared slides
so utterly unremarkable, my cells
as ordinary as my long brown hair.
I can wish for red high heels,
blonde highlights, a dark-haired stranger
to kiss me in the back of a used bookstore
on a rainy Saturday afternoon.