What I did not do but should have done

To The Lady on the Train,

I walked hallways and sat in meetings where I had to pretend that all my attention wasn’t being consumed by a white blouse or the swing of a dress. 

I noticed unnoticed the slant of shoulders, the shape of her eyes, and the playful smile that seemed to ring  something inside of me. 

I sometimes had to speak as if my heart wasn’t pounding and my words weren’t jumbled before they left my mouth just because she sat in a chair or stood up or moved papers on her desk with slender fingers. 

I had to not call out or crumble as she walked past and the world disappeared until it was only her folded arms and sway of her hips. 

I thought that I had to not do all those things. 

But her beauty was all I did see and she didn’t know it. 

It is all I still see. I hope that she know it.

The Man in the Station