I placed my hand on the small of her back
still warm from all we didn’t say.
We kissed, polite. No thunderclap.
Just breath, and metal, and one delay.

The doors slid open. I stepped out slow,
she stayed inside, fixed on the floor.
The crowd moved past. I didn’t go
not yet, not fully, not for sure.

Escalator rising, I turned again,
searched the glass through noise and steel,
and there she was, still, composed,
but something in her gaze was real.

We saw each other. Just a beat.
Then distance moved us. Silent. Neat.