She watched the minute fall off the edge of waiting and lay at her feet
it sighed softly and expired…she felt sad lonely wanting for a renewal
of faith of desire; another minute inched forward, eyeing the edge…

He sat on the subway dressed in assumption; ready and willing but time
(looking the other way) couldn’t see his motioning eyes, a need splashed
like pain across his face while train stops and starts continued

She tipped the scale with a feeling a movement toward less knowing and
understanding…time laughed somewhere an echo falling from the sky
landing at her feet ending on an angle against the last dying minute

He felt cold in his thinking in his waiting the subway slow so much space
between him and her between thinking and doing…between wanting and
having…he reached into memories and held her hand felt her face

She wondered without wondering felt time stretch across where she knew
he wasn’t where she saw an emptiness a space unfilled…she sighed
and started a small dance of gathering her sorrow, her gloves and coat

He felt the weight of expectation; sitting wet and dreary on shoulders, on
the unlikely notion that time would change reverse speed up, would be
anything else but the barrier the friction he felt between now and his soul

She pulled on cold brass—a slice of cold wind cutting through her—
through her disappointment she entered the idea that she was alone
again retreating again denied again as time ignored her confusion

He walked upwards toward the dim light of a day set to make him feel
make him know and endure, the subway sounds still staining his ears
he hurried to the coffee shop to the cold brass handle

She felt the sharpness in her eyes: the icy corner of brick and without
looking behind she turned a corner towards sadness toward missed
expectation she wandered with nothing but an idea to keep her warm

He sat at the varnished wood table, thick and solid completely unlike his
thoughts while the coffee sat slowly forgetting how to be hot, even his
memories fell into disuse while eyes scanned where she wasn’t