an old poem

an accidental glance
at that very moment my eyes chose not to blink
and i noticed you

the recognition: ah
that's him
and the many moments after, thinking about 'what if's

that rainy january day at the stop
then again on the way home
as the escalator pushed us further apart.

how many times have we actually almost met,
i wonder, where our directions overlapped
just for that little bit?