Rush hour.

You were standing,
walking the isles
looking for a seat.
And when you came to our carriage
you were so lost and beautiful
I wanted to give you mine.

But you wouldn’t let me
and, smiling,
shaking your head,
you moved on.

2 comments

  1. Soulless · October 25, 2007

    Strangers again, eh. ^_^

    Soem paths cross; some paths don’t. Some paths meet at a vanishing point.

  2. zaphodfreek · October 25, 2007

    How very mystic of you.
    😀

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