#PassingStrangers

Rush-hour cacophony, bodies press-pause-surge
Platform edges blur—time's frayed hem
I am we are they are all
Alone together in this metal-clad anthill

Distant whistle pierces the din (or my thoughts?)
Clock hands spin, spiral, splinter

You
There
Across the chasm of strangers and steel

Our gazes collide—cosmic accident or
destined rendezvous?
Eyes lock: blue meets brown meets
soul meets soul

Heartbeats sync with train wheels' rhythm
tick-tock-clack-clack melts into
gossamer threads of what-if

This moment: a snow globe of infinite possibilities
Shaken, settled, shattered

Your smile (did...