It was a surreal 60 seconds of my life
in that lift we stayed, just you and I.
Begged for the seconds to stop its pour
before that door opens right on your floor.
I know it was you the minute I walked in
you were busy with your phone, typing, swiping.
I wanted to smile and greet you "good morning",
but it fractures my soul for feeling so unseen.
As the gears of the lift fought with gravity,
the blood in my veins ran with increased frequency.
As the box we're in followed its path blindly,
my heart tried to escape from its confined cavity.
You rushed out the door as soon as it recessed
the elation in me boiled, to misery it condensed.
I'm a blimp filled with the warmth of your shadow
now with you gone, I came crashing down below.
Would it be better if I had not seen you
in your white sneakers and dress of blue?
I was craving for what your presence might imbue
But I was left with harrowing, such bitter residue.
I thank the heavens for this chanced encounter,
it sends me on both ends, but this I can weather.
But please hear my prayer, it pains me to ask
if our fates will not meet, then let this be our last.
This is probably the last poem that I will write about the Lady in Blue. It's been a month of senseless suffering for me; I have clearly hit a wall and I should face the fact that there's no other way but to move on. I wish her nothing but happiness; now it's time to find mine.