I accelerate with every footstep
like a tire lurching and pitching down a hill
until I am standing by the bus stop.

Panting, I check my watch
just as the little hand shuffles to the twelve
and I wait for you to walk through the glass door.

Bodies are passing me
in uniform motion
like lost satellites in space.

The Earth is spinning, heaving, gasping
until you’ve passed under the door frame
and then it stops to catch its breath.

My heart is at rest,
remaining at rest,
until you’ve come to me

I open my mouth
and wait for words to spill out
until they don’t.

You wend your way past me
in unyielding uniform motion
and step on the bus.

I try not to watch
as your bus pulls away from the curb
and the wind puts its arm around my shoulder as I’m whisked away.

An equal and opposite reaction?
Then Physics would have obligated you to kiss me
a long time ago.