The Crosswalk said Do Not Cross

So I was stuck on the other side of the street, and you got away.

I count the moments

when I could see you.

I tally the instances

when our paths could cross.

I sabotage the seconds

when our eyes could meet.

I smell your skin on the wind

and turn the other way.

I see the tips of your ears

in a crowd

and put some other face

in their place.

I see the shadow of your footprints,

put your heels to my toes

and walk the other way.

Concrete burns on my soles

where you've walked-

like sand on the beach,

where we once trod in step

linked by intertwining fingertips.

In retrospect-

you never held on that tightly.

It's no wonder the sea rose up

and swept you away-