Day 5 – Next Time

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Image source: Google

Next Time

Every day

at the same time

she catches him.

 

Back of the bus,

eyes fixated

on his handheld

luminous rectangle,

corners of his eyes

softly, sadly yielding

to gravity.

 

Every day

at the same time,

she catches him

 

surreptitiously

studying her

from behind the

safety of his

luminous rectangle

as her blush-brush

burnishes

her best face.

 

Every day at the same time,

for the beat of a hummingbird’s wing,

they are locked within the same space-time,

with her smirking a silent challenge;

 

is today the day?

 

Am I stunning enough for you

to break the ice and say

good morning?

 

Every day

at the same time,

the answer is always yes

she is indeed stunning enough,

 

and

every

day

 

at that same time,

he stubbornly ignores

this obvious answer.

 

Every day at the same time,

before the hummingbird

flaps wing for a second time,

his eyes retreat to his rectangle,

 

only to feel her eyes

burning him from behind

her bronzing brush.

 

Every day, like clockwork,

within the third flap

of a hummingbird’s wing,

he returns her hidden gaze

wondering if this woman

was willing to breach his

technological barriers

 

to lift the corners of his eyes

with a peacock-feather-brushed

good morning.

 

Every day,

at the same time,

the answer is always yes,

but not today.

 

Today,

unlike every day,

after their daily ritual,

both resolved to take action.

 

Next time,

the burnished,

blushing lady said to herself,

if he doesn’t greet me,

I will move closer to him and ask

if he sees anything he likes.

 

That should break the ice.

 

Next time,

the sad-eyed man said to himself,

I’ll just take an earlier bus.

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Image source: Google

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Posted to imaginary garden with real toads for Physics with Björn: Space time and the special theory of relativity. Björn has us writing poems about space time! I know! So dope, right? I like to think that I would’ve made a pretty rad astrophysisit if I hadn’t wasted all those formative years hating myself and whatnot. Ah well.

(I left astrophysicist intentionally misspelled just so that everyone could have a clear idea of how far away I am from becoming an astrophysicist.)

Anyway, head on over and check out all the wonderful poetry about space time.