You turned and as I was watching you our eyes met, briefly.
For a millisecond, maybe three. For a year, maybe a million.
The coffee I was holding went cold, long forgotten. Frozen.
I was lost in your eyes, Those endless icy spheres.
Wind stabbed at me as I trudged through them, frostbitten fingers reaching out for warmth.
I knew it would end, as soon as you looked away from me.
But did I really want to leave? I could get used to this, I thought.
Maybe light a fire in your eyes, live here forever. Perhaps.
And as quickly as it had come , the moment had passed. Wasted.
You were still looking at me. And yet I was here, wherever this was.
No one here save for us. Not a word was said.
Maybe I should’ve asked you where this was, or just said ‘Hey, Cold day’. Anything.
Deadlines, ‘Ill speak in an hour, at daybreak, or maybe tomorrow.’
Months passed. Not a word was said.
For a hundred years we stood there.
I learnt every curve of your face, the sequence of your breathing.
Slowly I fell in love. What was your name, I wondered.
And then one day you left.
You seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if waiting for me to speak.
But you were gone.Now nothing would ever be said.
The moment had passed.
I was still there.
Still content with just standing a little closer to you at the bus stop than is required.