Updated: Nov 25, 2019
Through the depths of my driving thoughts, you send me a message, disrupting my daydreams.
I change directions to meet you. We exchange pleasantries.
They’re pleasant, but nothing more.
I want to ask about your life, to try and understand a world with a population of one.
I choose instead to bite my tongue, too nervous to break the thin ice separating us from a rushing flow of connection.
You’re gone before I know it, back to writing the story I had longed to read.
You’ve left an empty space in my rear-view.
I endure a few moments of solitude, considering what could have been, before another takes your spot.
Perhaps this time I’ll have the courage to speak.