I sat, peering toward the glass front
where I expected her
silhouette to appear at any moment.
She messaged, give me another 10,
it had already been 12,
as I’d been embarrassingly punctual,
with a 3 minute calculated delay
to appear more relaxed.
10 minutes, 23 head turns toward
the glass front, the attempt of reading
interrupted
by head turns and heads
that looked like her, for a second,
for a second, I stopped fumbling
the sole of my shoe
that started falling off, and still
held sand of last vacation between
its layers,
an hour-glass, 10 minutes in a sauna
feel so unbearably long,
so unbearably long, head turn,
still, not her, not her,
just me, my head, my strained neck,
counting sand grains.
4 minutes in I ordered our coffees,
sat back down again. My broken-shoed foot
resting on my knee.
Its toes tipping, counting, the seconds.
I am living in the moment,
I’m telling myself, just taking everything in.
6 minutes stretched themselves out
on the empty seat next to me.
Until there’s her and my head
is no longer a head.
typing... 