Passing strangers.
#PassingStrangers
In the rush of footsteps,
a symphony of soles and wheels,
voices rising like smoke to the ceiling,
we stand, adrift in the sea
of hurried lives.
Your eyes catch mine
for a moment, no more,
two strangers bound
by nothing but the fleeting
stitch...
In the rush of footsteps,
a symphony of soles and wheels,
voices rising like smoke to the ceiling,
we stand, adrift in the sea
of hurried lives.
Your eyes catch mine
for a moment, no more,
two strangers bound
by nothing but the fleeting
stitch...